Broken Rituals
by Animegoil
Summary: They fall in love so slowly, through broken rituals, that they don't realize it until it's too late. Small incidents bring Leon and Cloud together, even with things like their past, Zack and Irvine, and their own fears getting in the way. Ch7: Denial
1. Mornings

**Alright, so... who's ready for some Leon/Cloud? First shot at using these two particular characters, and it's a fluffy dive into them.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, yadda yadda- The incredible creations that are Cloud and Leon... were not created by me. **

**Warnings: Um... none really... **

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**_Broken Ritual _**

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It was hard for Cloud to get up in the mornings, if he could call Traverse Town's perpetual darkness 'morning' in the first place. He'd lie there, thinking, mulling over life and its meaning as he sought for the willpower to get up in what could have been the middle of the night judging by the view from his window. It took him awhile to find it, as he thought about Zachs, and Tifa, and Aerith's death, even if she was alive again. And Sephiroth. Mostly Sephiroth. It seemed like that was the one that made him want to dig further under the blankets again and yet filled him with a fiery determination to get up at the same time. 

It was all a ritual of sorts. He'd been in Traverse for a while now, sharing a small house with the others, with him, Leon and Cid getting the second floor while Aerith and Yuffie happily shared a room downstairs. Leon got up earlier than Cloud, and on the rare nights that Cloud had left his door open out of tired forgetfulness, he would hear the door open of the bedroom next to his, and groggily watch as Leon walked across the hallway and close the bathroom door behind him. He'd listen to the sounds of running water and other fumblings of early morning as he dressed, fingering Vincent's cloak and Zax's shirt alternatively.

It was all a ritual. He'd wait for Leon to finish in the bathroom, though there were two sinks, and the door was left unlocked. It was just because they were private people by nature, and knowing the other was the same, granted each other that privacy. Even were Leon to leave something as insignificant as a sock in the bathroom, he'd wait until Cloud was finished to go back in and retrieve it. They simply had never intruded on each other, and never really needed to, living in a world without deadlines and time restraints. Some might have called it ridiculous, but to them it was an acknowledgement of their space and privacy. It was probably their version of friendly consideration.

This particular day, Cloud noticed that Leon had come out quicker than usual, but paid it no heed as he brushed past him, his eyes still sleep-ridden and his step a bit skewed for the same reason. He was about to close the door when Leon spoke up.

"Do you have a razor I could use?"

The first thing Cloud noticed, odd as it may be, was Leon's wording. Of course he had a razor, otherwise Cloud would be growing a beard—he _had_ gone through puberty, even if Leon sometimes teasingly refuted it. So the answer would _have_ to be yes. The more natural question would have been whether Cloud minded Leon using the razor that he _had_ to have. It was almost as if Leon had asked the question in this particular way to guarantee a positive answer, as if he was afraid that otherwise, the answer would have been negative. As if he was afraid of rejection.

"Yeah, of course," he said, noting the prickly shadow that night had uncovered on Leon's face, "Let me find it…"

Leon watched the blonde rummage through the single bag that held all his belongings as he fingered the stubble that a dull blade had been unable to repair that morning.

Cloud handed the razor to the brunet and here they hesitated, because this situation had never come up before. Should Cloud step out again until Leon finished, or should Leon wait for Cloud?

Leon glanced warily at the blonde standing there calmly, though the shift in his eyes betrayed his confusion.

It was all a routine, and they were both aware of the breach in daily habit.

The brunet motioned almost shyly towards the sink, "I don't mind… if you don't, that is."

Cloud held back a small smile as he relaxed and turned to the mirror, wetting a washing cloth, "I don't. Go ahead."

The air seemed to diffuse, and Leon too relaxed, eyeing the blade, "This thing's sharp. New?"

"No… I've had it for one or two months, I think," Cloud mumbled through the washing cloth scrubbing his face.

"That's right… you don't seem to need to shave at all," Leon muttered, lathering shaving cream over his lower face and neck, resisting the urge to make a quick jibe about preteen boys not having any facial hair at all to shave.

"Maybe once every three days," the other responded with a slight grin, knowing Leon shaved dutifully every day, but by nightfall already had the professed five o'clock shadow.

Silence followed, but it was comfortable, and neither was sure how to carry on a conversation much further past that anyway, so silence was preferable. There weren't many words needed between them, their minds seemed aligned in a way that made it useless to explain some of their actions or elaborate their words like they had to for other people.

At the thirdslow stroke, he cut himself, drawing in his breath sharply as a rectangle of red was slicedinto his jaw and with the pulse of his heart, bloomed.

Cloud's hand was above the cut immediately, reacting almost instinctively, before Leon even had time to rinse his hands off and begin to dress the cut. There was a moment where they both stood frozen, Cloud's wide eyes staring at Leon's surprised ones. Then the hand withdrew, as if appalled at having dared to touch him so thoughtlessly, but returned with a strip of wet cloth, hovering hesitantly before lowering to dab at the bleeding gash.

Leon stood still, not realizing the breath was holding, watching out of the corner of his eye the familiar motions of dressing a wound, enjoying the feathery, cold touches of Cloud's fingertips on his skin. Cloud's face was schooled into indifference once more, but despite the calmness of it, his hands were just barely tremulous. The younger man wiped the blood gently, but Leon still gritted his teeth as the cloth came in contact with the raw flesh.

"It was sharp," he muttered.

Cloud nodded, applying a little more pressure and holding it there to soak, and Leon grimaced, "Sorry."

There was no need to add anything else, no need for Cloud to scold, because he knew that Leon had known, it had been a simple careless mistake, and they knew Leon would not repeat it again. There was no need for Leon to feel defensive either, because he knew Cloud knew what it was like to _know_ but still mess up. It was something they'd both done, and deeply regretted.

"There, it'll clot," he murmured, forgoing a band-aid, which was just as well, because Leon would have refused.

"Thanks."

And just like that, Cloud turned away and picked up his toothbrush, and Leon continued shaving—much more carefully, of course.

With silence still reigning over them, Cloud's razor safely back in his bag, and the blonde ducking his head low underneath a faint blush, Leon figured there was little else for him to do, and made to leave.

Cloud wasn't sure whether to be relieved or regretful that Leon was leaving—probably relieved, considering it meant and end to the opportunities for Cloud to embarrass himself, and for Leon to see the blush on his face. He watched covertly as the brunet passed behind him, but to his surprise, Leon suddenly stopped at stared at his back. Why…?

Cloud froze, his eyes widening as he realized what Leon was looking at.

For his part, Leon would have continued on his way and left, but something had caught his attention.

Cloud's wing.

Only the tip was visible, buried underneath the folds of the blood red cloak, and Cloud watched with growing uneasiness as Leon simply _stood_ there.

Leon wondered how it was that Cloud was able to keep it hidden so well, it wasn't like the thing was small or something. There was no reason for him to try to hide it. Leon had known about it for a long time—it was a rather hard thing to keep hidden when you _lived_ with someone, after all, and it hardly bothered him. He thought Cloud had known that. Apparently not.

Slowly, he reached out, _sensing_ more than seeing the way Cloud's body completely tensed, rigidly frozen. Cloud's eyes were wide and terrified as they locked onto Leon's reflection on the mirror, though they weren't able to make contact with the brunet's carefully avoiding ones, but all Leon did was gently unwrap the wing from the confining cloth. The cloak fell aside heavily, and the wing was revealed in its dark glory, naked to the world and fluttering lightly with nervousness.

"You're among friends, you know," he finally lifted his eyes, gazing directly at the younger man.

Cloud's eyes seemed glued to the steely-silver eyes that bore into him, and the gaze was so pure, so burning, that he had to wrench his eyes away before they burned his soul as well.

"I… I know that…"

"You don't need to hide it," Leon stated firmly, and Cloud gave him a slightly bitter smile, his eyes flickering over to his before flittering away again.

"I don't do it for you… I'm… I'm hiding it from _myself_."

Leon took a moment to process his confession, taking in its implications. Was Cloud really so ashamed of what he'd done to receive this brand? Leon closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and wondering if he was going too far as he reached out once again. His fingersfloated over the wing for a moment before he gathered his courage andgrazed his fingersslowly from the tip,throughout the length of the whole wing,watching with amazement as the blonde shuddered, gave an almost inaudible gasp, his hands gripping the sink as his breath quickened and his back arched slightly.

"… What does it feel like?" he was unable to keep the wonder from his whispering voice, letting his hand rest on the appendage, surprised to find it warm. He let Cloud draw in a shaky breath and open those glowing sea-green eyes of his, unable to lift his eyes from the curves of the demon-like wing. He'd seen it before, but it never ceased to amaze him, especially this close, close enough to _touch_.

"Like… like running the tip of your tongue on the roof of your mouth," the younger man's voice was husky, breathless, and to Leon, just as maddening. He raised his eyes to glance at him again, finding glowing emeralds half-lidded with pleasure as Leon stroked the quivering wing again, emboldened by the positive response.

Cloud sighed softly, almost startling Leon as he stretched out his wing, the tip just barely grazing the ceiling, glorious, and Leon was unable to hold back his awe.

"It's incredible…" he murmured, and Cloud blushed, "… Did it hurt?"

Cloud's eyes flickered over to his before focusing on the edge of the sink, "Like hell," and then, too quiet for Leon to catch, "… Again."

"What?"

Cloud's wing fluttered, as if beckoning him, and Cloud looked away meekly, that beautiful crimson still gracing his pale skin, "Will you do that again?"

Leon had to fight hard to hold back his smile as he let his fingers ghost over the dark membrane.

It was easier for Cloud to get up in the mornings now that he had something to look forward to— a broken ritual.

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**Okay, I'm writing this as I watch the ending credits for the fist time. Ansem's annoying ... Man, the ending's beautiful, isn't it? And I had no idea that Cloud actually goes to Hollow Bastion and meets up with Aerith, Yuffie and Leon (and Cid). I squealed, it was exciting happy How come all the fics are set in Taverse Town, then? ...er, anyway. **

**I'm thinking of doing a second chapter, extending this topic with a different scenario, you tell me what you think. It'd be about breakfast (lol). **


	2. Breakfast

**Thanks to all my reviewers! I was really only planning for this to be a two-shot possibly, but the CloudLeon bug's bit me, and I have like, a bazillion fics I'd like to write of them . :dizzy: But here's the next chapter of this, hope you like! **

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**_Broken Rituals- Chapter Two_**

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Things were the same for another week or so, and yet something had invariably changed. It was more significant than merely the fact that they now were comfortable sharing the bathroom in the mornings, with Leon reaching over Cloud's head to get a new bar of hand soap, and Cloud ducking slightly as he brushed his teeth to allow Leon easier access. It was more in the way they didn't feel nervous or self-conscious (for the most part) when doing these things. They even traded short bits of conversations that lasted minutes in length before lapsing back into comfortable silence. But no, it wasn't even in that. It was mostly in how Cloud's cloak hung loose when inside the house now, allowing his wing the freedom of motion, and in the way Leon would pass behind him, letting his fingers brush in a subtle movement over the smooth membrane, earning a fluttering sigh from the blonde.

At first glance, they seemed like insignificant changes, but they spoke volumes of them.

As he walked down the stairs, Cloud following sleepily behind, Leon noted absently that _something_ was missing. He wasn't able to place his finger on it at first, but it became apparent once he walked into the kitchen. There was no breakfast waiting for them at the table, with a humming Aerith at the stove greeting them and asking them if they wanted eggs or bacon with their pancakes. Leon frowned as he stopped in the doorway, and only Cloud's well-trained reflexes saved him from running into the brunet.

"G'morning!" Yuffie waved at them as she sat on the kitchen counter, her stocking-clad legs swinging happily beneath her.

"G'night's more like it…" Cloud mumbled, and Leon ignored it, used to his grumbling comments about the everlasting night. Silver eyes pinned themselves on the grinning girl.

"… Where's Aerith?"

"'Member, silly? She's with Cid, and they're with Sora, and _he's_ at some world or another. I didn't catch the name, but Sora wanted them to help out—"

Leon groaned, "Yeah, yeah, I remember," Stupid of him to have forgotten in the first place. He blamed it on the morning.

"They left?" the ex-soldier's head was cocked to the side, "When? Why?"

"While you were doing your impersonation of sleeping beauty."

Cloud ignored the brunet's offhand jibe, looking to Yuffie for explanation, his large aquamarine eyes blinking widely.

"Oh, that's right, you hadn't popped up yet," Yuffie took a big breath and began spouting off a mile a minute, "See, a while ago Sora came swooshing by as usual, and said he found a world that could use Aerith's healing savvy and Cid's mechanism tinkering know-how, do-how, whatever, but he wanted to seal up the keyhole first before he took them over. And he finally did, so he came, and so they're gone."

"Oh," the blonde looked mildly hurt, "She could have waken me to say goodbye…"

The ninja girl shrugged, "Not like anyone could wake _you_ up when you're out of it, and anyway, she thought you looked too cute sleeping to wake," she said the last with a slightly devious smile, as if there had been more to the joke, and glanced at Leon, who pointedly avoided her look.

"They'll only be gone a bit," Leon added, and he hadn't meant for it to sound like consolation, but the scoff he'd intended didn't quite make it into his voice.

"So what are you going to do about breakfast, then?" Yuffie waved her half-eaten bagel, "I would have gotten you guys something too, but I didn't know what you wanted to eat," her apologetic grin was anything but, and she hopped off the counter and skipped to the door, waving, "See ya guys!"

Leon watched her retreating form and replied, belatedly, as the door was already closed, "Whatever," he turned to Cloud, "What do you want?"

The blonde shrugged, laying his head on folded arms on the table, "I'm not that hungry, I only eat 'cause Aerith makes me."

Leon frowned inwardly. Cloud was muscular, sure, but he was just a bit too thin for his liking. He could see why Aerith insisted on forcing him to eat at every meal.

"I'm making something for myself either way, and if I were you, I'd eat," he left it at that. He really wasn't hungry either, actually, but otherwise, he wouldn't be able to make Cloud eat.

"…Alright, alright," Cloud muttered and sighed, letting his wing stretch out leisurely as he made himself more comfortable in the chair. He saw the veiled threat in Leon's suggestion, and didn't really feel like fighting it, just like he never felt like fighting Aerith's, though he was kind of touched that Leon bothered. At the same time, it was also slightly irking to know they treated him like glass— as if such petty things could re-break him like his whole ordeal with Sephiroth and Jenova had done, "So, what can you make?"

Leon paused and his hand reached up to stroke his lower lip thoughtfully, "I don't know… does French toast and bacon sound good?"

"Uh, yeah," Cloud blinked, "That sounds fine."

"…I'm not really used to cooking… this was something I learned in the orphanage when I was little," Leon muttered softly, and Cloud decided that though the subject wasn't particularly dangerous, it was probably safer to tread around it.

"Me neither. Mother cooked for me when I was little, and once I joined SOLDIER, well, food's just kinda handed to you or bought. Or when we were out on the field, Zax sometimes made stuff," Cloud's mouth turned upward with a slightly bittersweet smile that Leon didn't see.

"I know the feeling. Quistis was the only one of the girls who knew how to cook, but she rarely took field missions. Irivine was usually the one who cooked," Leon chuckled in remembrance, and Cloud smiled to hear the sound, "But usually we went into town to get a bite… there was always a city somewhere nearby by…"

"You were a mercenary too, right?" the blonde suddenly asked. Leon craned his head around to look inquiringly at Cloud before turning back to pour milk into the egg batter. Cloud knew the answer to that question already, so why was he asking?

"Yeah," Leon humored him, "But it was a little different than what you're thinking of. I belonged to what was basically a mercenary organization. Politicians and other people came to Garden to request a job, such as assassinations, or protection, or smaller stuff, and a team was assigned to the job, and then we got paid once finished."

Cloud stared thoughtfully at the back of Leon's jacket, where those two little wings had been sewn on, "That's a very powerful organization. Your world's political hierarchy must have been very wary of Garden. Even if they knew of an assassination attempt, they wouldn't have been able to contest such a large institute. A league of mercenaries…"

"No one could oppose us," Leon recalled, and not without a hint of pride. He had led Balamb Garden, after all, and under him, it had flourished, even after Ultimecia.

Cloud sank into deep thought after that, whether mulling over what Leon had said or connecting it to his own situation, Leon wouldn't know. The pan sizzled and hissed as he dropped the slice of bread soaked in batter on it, and cooked the bacon.

_Leon__…_ Leon was an interesting person, Cloud thought. He seemed at first glance like a cold, emotionless tower of strength, but Cloud felt that it wasn't quite that way. In fact, he and Cloud made an interesting pair. At first sight, they seemed almost the same, both aloof, socially challenged, with that pained, mysterious aura around them. But upon closer inspection, one began to see the differences. Cloud was more open, naïve almost, even after all he'd seen, and he displayed emotion and regret just a little bit freer than stone-faced Leon. Leon, on the other hand, had become jaded by his experiences, and tried his best to shut out people, while Cloud tried to find acceptance of sorts. Leon was more easily offended by things, and constantly tried to keep a wall of ice between his heart and daily life, as if to try to protect it. He was frantically hiding from his humanity, while Cloud was desperately trying to find it.

But underneath those layers, one found that they were once again, incredibly similar. Deep down, they were both timid, sorrowful, with pains too deep to bear without a scar, trying to find the fragmented childhood that had been so cruelly torn from them. And they both held a deep, twisted sense of guilt stemming from what they deemed were their flaws—that they were too weak to save the ones they loved. It was their guilt, and even earlier, the high expectations set of them, that had driven them to withdraw from the rest of the world. They had tried so hard to be something, and in the end, felt like they had failed.

"…We're really similar, aren't we?" Cloud murmured, his eyes still focused intensely on the back of Leon's shirt, though they weren't really seeing anything at this point.

The brunet stopped for a moment, as if considering the question, then flipped the toast, "How so?"

Cloud blinked, as if he hadn't been expecting an answer to his reflective statement. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, scratching his head a bit.

"Just… we are, aren't we?" He began hesitantly, much like a student put on the spot by an open ended question, the type that seems obvious, but is so hard to find the words to describe something felt so instinctively. But slowly, his voice deepened, gaining confidence, and his eyes narrowed dangerously, hands folding underneath his chin, "We both have had… things… happen in our lives that have affected us, things we wish we could forget, but at the same time, don't, because it's the only thing we can hold onto that gives us a meaning, a purpose."

He stopped, his voice regaining its initial confusion, "I… didn't want to be a wandering soul… I wanted my life to have meaning, to do something great, or helpful… but, I guess it's what I became anyway…"

Cloud sighed, and glanced up at Leon, jumping a bit as he saw the bruet's incredulous gaze on him. Neither spoke for a moment, and Leon kept his eyes pinned on Cloud, as if he couldn't quite grasp what the blonde had said, swallowing repeatedly like he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words, letting Cloud shift uncomfortably under the smoldering silver eyes.

Cloud saw the smoke at the same time that Leon smelled it, and the brunet whirled around back to the pan.

"Crap," he muttered, tossing the burnt bread aside, the tension that was comfortable in its familiarity, but uncomfortable because of its thickness, lessening slightly.

Leon opened his mouth, and for a couple seconds, nothing came out. Cloud waited patiently, nervously wondering what his response would be.

"I… felt the same way. We're similar in that respect as well," he admitted, his face turned away from embarrassment at revealing something he felt was so personal.

"It's a hard feeling to get over," Cloud added bitterly.

"If you ever do," Leon agreed.

"And for those who don't?" Cloud demanded harshly, his fist crashing down on the table, and the sound of his own outburst startled him. He turned his face away apologetically, his voice softening, "Sorry."

"We find a new meaning, a new purpose," Leon replied quietly, finally turning around, holding their plates and setting them on the table.

Cloud sagged in his seat and looked up at Leon pleadingly, "Where?"

Silver eyes traveled over the blonde, from the wing that hung defeated, tip brushing the floor, to the spiked blonde hair, and tracing every feature of the boyish face with a silent plea as keening as Cloud's, "I don't know."

He sat down, took a bite of food, and the conversation was over. And once again, Cloud was left with the contradicting feeling that though nothing had been resolved, something had changed. Something had shifted and settled.

He stared dully at this food, nudging it once with his fork, and Leon glanced up from his plate.

"Eat," he pointed at the blonde, hiding his worried frown with a slight glare, "I don't want to have to carry you home again because you fainted from malnutrition."

Cloud's brow furrowed, "That's never happened before. What are you – Oh. Never mind."

He remembered now, but it hadn't been from hunger that he'd passed out. No, that had been shortly after coming to Traverse, when Sephiroth's image from the Coliseum was still a haunting brand in his mind, and he'd been unable to sleep for days. That day had simply been his reaching the limit, and when Leon had later asked, he'd preferred to lie than to expose himself. And as he would still rather keep the truth hidden—Sephiroth was just too painful a subject to talk about with anyone, even Aerith and Yuffie – he had no choice but to accept consequences of his lie.

"Yeah, so eat," Leon raised his eyebrow, thinking Cloud had turned his face away out of embarrassment instead of shame.

Leon watched Cloud raised the toast to his mouth and take a bite, chewing slowly. With Cloud, he always felt like he was missing something that was very close. He wasn't sure if the feeling was nostalgia, or if Cloud maybe reminded him too much of himself. Sometimes it was almost painful, when he recognized the motions of loneliness, or the faraway look of remembrance. Most painful was the self-loathing that crept into his voice at times, and Leon wondered if Cloud ever felt the same when Leon let it slip through as well.

Realizing his plate was empty, the brunet stood to place it in the sink and wash it, and when he came back, Cloud was greedily finishing his up too.

"Hey, Leon, this is really good."

"… You're like a friggin' vacuum cleaner," was Leon's thanks, but Cloud only chuckled.

"Because it was good, I'm not kidding. I've never had this before," he admitted, "I just assumed I wouldn't like it, so I never tried it before."

Leon shrugged and walked past Cloud, letting his shoulder brush against the blonde's, and his fingers to gently trace the tip edge of his wing in passing.

Cloud only had a split second to see the spread of scarlet on the brunet's face as he paused in the doorway before he turned away, "If… If you want, I'll make some more tomorrow."

Cloud smiled, standing to follow Leon, daring to step a little closer than he normally would, "Yeah, I'd like that."

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**They're interesting to work with, I love it. Dialogue is so much fun **

**Review please! **


	3. After Battle

**Wow, I'm so glad to see the support for this fic! It's immense fun to write, and I'm glad other people enjoy it too. Gives me good reason to write it when I'm out of ideas.**

**Enjoy!**

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**_Broken Rituals- After Battle_**

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Very few people truly _understood_ what it was like to combat. Cloud used that particular word because it encompassed fighting and battling as well, and those were two different things to a seasoned fighter. Fighting implied the need to win at all costs, an all-out battle where the only thing that truly mattered was staying alive long enough to win. Battling implied a positive relationship, where the goal could be training oneself against a friend, or teaching a younger comrade, or for the pure enjoyment. That one could spill over into fighting, but fighting simply had a negative connotation. It was something hard to describe. Cloud couldn't say what, exactly, made combat a fight or a battle, he simply felt it. Still, the terms were so interchangeably used that Cloud hardly bothered keeping them straight in his speech. 

To an inexperienced soldier, fights were frantic, where sharply-honed reflexes, if they had them, kicked in more than logic and rationale did. It was a struggle for survival, where the knowledge of your own helplessness and the fact that any wrong move could cost more than pride drove adrenaline into their brains like a drill to a nail, only making that franticness worse. To an experienced fighter, that adrenaline was a source of life, and the energy to continue this battle, but it never reached the levels needed to override logic. Every move was deliberate, every reaction carefully plotted into the makings of a larger plan by which to ultimately win. With the objective usually being death or out of commission, there was little care to take heed to where exactly you were aiming—any place was good, though of course, the deadlier the better.

When battling Leon though, he did have to watch out for where he was aiming. He didn't want to kill Leon, obviously.

Out of the rush and danger of fighting, battling was almost sensual, a dance in which adrenaline contributed to a racing heart, a constant flush to one's cheeks, where breaths were heavy and shuddering or shallow and husky. Where their bodies brushed against each other in light touches or full body-slams, and the heat emanating from them was almost suffocating. There was a deep-seated calm in their eyes that made them even more aware of every fluttering ghosting of their skin against each other, because the objective here wasn't death, or even victory, but pure, undiluted delight and pleasure. It helped that not only did their battles serve to ease the boredom and routine of their lives, but it also trained them. They were both so skilled, that even though they'd memorized every move and inclination of the other, Cloud's tendency to follow up a side swipe with a kick, or Leon's to feign just before an overhead blow, they still always managed to catch the other unawares somehow, to rise above the challenge of fighting someone who knew their body's every instinct.

It was absolutely exhilarating.

His mind always had to be sharp, constantly on the watch for a new move meant to catch him off guard, always while running through every limitation of his body, trying to figure out how to best Leon. It would have been thrilling to watch them, always on their toes, their minds exhausting themselves with the effort of coming up with something to displace any attempt to win by the other, all the while circling each other like a hostile wolf and lion. They'd discovered an array of new moves this way, with one of them stopping to ask the other if he could possibly repeat what he'd just done, to engrain the series of actions in his mind to call up later. The best parts, however, were when the contest became so desperate and intense that instinct took over, and Cloud was young and inexperienced again, living off adrenaline and only his body's well-trained reflexes led his body into the fluid forms he'd learned when young. Except it was different, because it wasn't a frantic struggle for survival, and he wasn't inexperienced, so he was able to enjoy their bodies' liquid, gravity-defying dance and appreciate the rush.

Cloud wouldn't trade it for the world.

Their swords clanged, sparks of fire stinging his skin before Leon threw off his weight, and Cloud had to do a backward round-off to avoid losing his balance and falling prey to the bite of the Revolver. With inertia still roiling in his steps, he sprung forward, and Leon was able to whirl to the side, but not in time to avoid the tip of the Buster sword, which dragged along his shoulder. Crimson contrasted beautifully with the neutral colors of Leon's clothes and hair. His momentum, however, allowed him to swing his blade in a full circle, catching Cloud's unprotected back. The blonde stumbled forward, drawing his breath in sharply before turning to face Leon again.

They stood in a stalemate, breathing harshly, their gazes cold and hard in this environment, though just underneath was that deeper understanding and respect that they held outside of battling, and deeper still, something else that they were unable to recognize in themselves, much less the other.

The gash on Cloud's back, though not debilitating, was hot and searing, and he shifted uncomfortably to alleviate the pain, glancing at his sparring partner. The Buster sword's deep bite trailed across Leon's shoulder, and was bleeding profusely. The brunet's breathing was labored, and he held his chest delicately, though the fire in his eyes didn't lessen, in fact, it only seemed to glow brighter, as if daring to tell him he was out of the game.

Well, Cloud knew better than to say _that_ to Leon. Still, there were other ways to end the match.

Cloud let himself collapse on to the ground, Buster firmly encased in the stone floor, "I'm done for today," he fanned himself, watching Leon carefully out of the corner of his eyes. Usually, a tacit understanding led to the end of their training sessions, but when Leon was adamant about continuing, the only thing that would stop him would be for him to see that Cloud couldn't, or didn't, want to go any further—and Cloud used that to his advantage. It was odd, because there were so many instances where he'd be too prideful, or embarrassed, or simply _afraid_, to admit any sort of weakness, but maybe it was because he knew that it was for Leon's sake that he was showing weakness that he didn't mind doing it in these circumstances.

It took a moment of hesitation, but finally, Leon too, collapsed, his gunblade clattering to floor. Wiping the sweat off his forehead and giving Cloud an almost annoyed look, though the blonde knew better, he asserted, if only to make sure Cloud didn't misunderstand, "I could have gone another round."

Cloud chuckled, "Sure, tomorrow."

Leon fumed adorably, "You did that on purpose because you thought I couldn't go any further."

Cloud hid his smirk by taking his shirt off, wincing as his back was stretched painfully, "Heaven forbid I doubt Leon's ability, I actually just felt it was about time to call it a day," he stood, his legs shaking a bit as he tossed his shirt to the ground and slipped out of his shoes, whose straps he'd already undone. Vincent's cloak and claws were too much for this kind of close combat, and unfair in a match testing skill with blades, so Cloud always removed them, leaving them in a respectful pile by the entrance to the underground training area, next to where he left his things.

The water that flowed into their training ground was fresh and cool as Cloud dipped his head, letting the heat almost _radiating_ off his skin be countered by it. Though he'd dubiously stared at Leon the first time he'd stepped into the water, the brunet had assured him the water was clean—it flowed downstream to the city, and Merlin had placed a purifying spell on it anyway, for this particular reason.

Leon's almost pouting glare—though Cloud would never dare call it that out loud—finally relented, and he followed suit, pulling off his shoes with his good arm, and stripping his belts, leather jacket, and his t-shirt as he stood up. He swayed momentarily as breathing came hard, his chest expanding painfully, and he tried to hide it, but luckily Cloud's back was turned. He shivered as he stepped in, going deeper and deeper until the water came up to his waist, and then found a stone he could sit on. The water chilled his body and eased his slight dizziness. Cloud submerged his head further into the water, before swimming over to sit next to the other man. Sitting, the water came up to the top of Leon's shoulder, but Cloud was in all the way to his chin, almost.

"Feels great… this is probably the handiest place to have a training ground," Cloud muttered, leaning his head back. His wing upturned the water behind him, tugged gently by the current. Even wet, his golden hair seemed to relatively hold that unnatural hairstyle, and the crimson heat hadn't left his face yet. His eyes were still bright from the excitement of battle, but Leon thought it was an almost unnatural glow, unnerving had it not been the fact that it was _Cloud's_, and somehow, that made it almost comforting.

Leon's eyes grazed over Cloud's small body, his bare chest distorted by the running water around, but he could see the faint scars—one particularly large one, though faded, in the center of his abdomen, and he knew from previous times, that it had a twin on his back too. He shuddered to think of how bad that injury must have been. Not that he was unmarked either, various scars marred his skin as well, and there was of course, the infamous one on his face that had its mirror twin too—on Seifer's face… He closed his eyes for a moment and the sneering smirk and lost eyes came to mind, but he quickly shook his head and locked them away again, focusing on Cloud instead. On his lithe body, with his beautifully pale skin and jadedly naïve eyes, they seemed as pitiful as jarring scratches on a diamond.

_It's funny,_ he thought. When Cloud had first appeared, Leon had been immediately struck with a sort of wary respect. He could _feel_ the steely tenacity, the pained aura that was so like his own, see the glow of his dangerous eyes, but he'd been doubtful, nonetheless, that Cloud could ever gain the upper hand against him.

He realized how badly he'd underestimated Cloud when he found himself on the ground, gazing up rebelliously along the length of the Buster sword digging into his chin. Since then, he'd found that though he could physically overpower him, Cloud's speed more than made up for it. They each used this fact to the utmost advantage in their battles, so that after a while it was a useless advantage because the other could counter it.

His head still felt like it was stuffed with cotton, so he stopped thinking so hard. Instead, the eddies of red that flowed around them caught his attention, and he absently reached up to brush his shoulder. The pain had eased thanks to the cold of the water, but it appeared it was still bleeding.

Cloud finally sighed contentedly and lifted his head, shaking it briefly to dislodge the water and spraying Leon in the process. And up until now he'd managed to keep everything but the tips of his hair from getting wet too…

"Watch it," he muttered, raising his arm to wipe the water off his face and immediately hissing andgritting his teeth, lowering his arm again to cradle it.

Cloud was instantly there, as he was so inclined to do when Leon was hurt, and it was attention that Leon was unused to, "Let me see that, it's still bleeding pretty badly."

"So's your back," the ex-SEED responded stiffly, embarrassed and confused, but Cloud ignored him and took Leon's arm gently. Leon wondered where the concern in his eyes came from, how it was possible that eyes that were so merciless in battle could be so soft and glow so peculiarly…?

A soft _Cura_ was whispered, and the bleeding lessened, and the flesh began knitting itself slowly, so that in a couple days there wouldn't even be a scar. They didn't offer apologies, for in the heat of battle, anything went, and you could only hope that your reflexes were good enough to hold up against your opponent. It was unnecessary to apologize between them.

Slowly and tantalizingly, Cloud dragged his fingertips from his shoulder along his collarbone and then to his chest. Sapphire eyes narrowed worriedly as his fingers ran over the length of Leon's chest gingerly, where a large, dark bruise had arisen. Their battles were never gentle, but this one had been particularly rowdy, and at one point, Leon had been rammed painfully between the Buster and a hard place—in this case, a wall.

"You're having trouble breathing," Cloud stated, glancing up concernedly, and for once, Leon didn't feel the need to get defensive and refute that he was _fine_. This was just a routine tallying up of injuries—they were used to it. After all, in their worlds they'd grown up with the tallying up of casualties after battles and tending to their wounds.

There was a definite relief in knowing that Cloud already knew his strength, so he could indulge himself a little. He was surprised to find that he didn't feel that compelling need to hide all frailties and debility in front of Cloud. Was it because Cloud too, understood what it was like to have a _duty_ to be strong, and to be the marble tower to others?—In his case Aerith, Yuffie, and even Cid took silent comfort in Leon's steely calm that could be counted on at all times. Leon could not, and much worse, did not know _how_ to let them down.

Nor his walls of defense.

But with those currently suffering under Cloud's piercingly clear sapphires, polished into a soft luster by concern, he wasn't sure how to react. The blonde's fingers fluttered over his bruised chest, taking in the damage and gently pressing soothing waves of the warm _Cure_ magic.

"Breathe in, deep."

Leon followed the instructions of the younger man without question, inwardly surprised at what that meant—when had he so easily began to trust Cloud? He'd never had a reason to distrust Cloud, but still… he'd simply done as Cloud had said without even really registering what he was saying, something he most definitely did _not_ do, as a matter of soldier-bred suspicion. And when had Cloud gained that calm confidence when speaking to him, that of friends who have no doubts between each other? It's not like they were, not really, it was more of an… alliance… and yet Leon couldn't say that there wasn't _something_ between them…

He grimaced as his chest expanded, and Cloud noted so and pressed right below his sternum. The pain was hacked off abruptly, and his head began to clear as he was able to breathe normally again. He closed his eyes, breathing once… twice… thrice... only to have them shoot open as he felt a warm touch tentatively pressed against his face.

"…Better?" such a beautifully soft tone out of equally beautiful eyes, as the small hand cupped his face and he knew there had to be something wrong with him because he was trembling under that innocently concerned gaze, laced with something much darker that enticed and terrified him all the more.

He swallowed and nodded, aware that his eyes were still wide and he tried to control the nervousness that had somehow sprouted at that gaze. The blonde flashed a quick smile, as if unaffected by it all.

"It's a trick I learned from Zax… it's a pressure point," his eyes got a far-off look after that, his hand playing idly with the water, and Leon remained quiet. He _wanted_ to say thank you… but wasn't sure how. He was still trying to control his quickened breathing.

"It's useful," he said instead, and once Cloud looked up again, motioned towards him, "Let me see your back."

"It's not bad," he turned around anyway, and Leon was glad that he didn't have to contend with his piercingly clear eyes any longer. The quiet tension between them was so unnerving, and yet at the same time, it wasn't tension so much as unfamiliarity with comfort, but how was it possible that it was both? For, with no one else would Leon have been able to speak to so easily, or express himself to the extent he did with Cloud. They were both horrible speakers, but with each other, they could take the time to form the words they truly wanted to say. It didn't solve the problem, but there wasn't that pressure to say what they needed to say quickly, like they did under Aerith or Yuffie's expectant gazes. They expected nothing of each other… and when one expected nothing, it was easy to surpass the expectations, wasn't it?

Cloud's dark, glorious wing was raised high into the air above the wound, but Leon couldn't take his eyes off it. It ceased to amaze him, especially in moments like these, when it was ethereal and beautiful, and contrasting starkly with the creamy paleness of Cloud's skin. He laid his hand on the cold flesh at the base of the wing, and Cloud flexed his shoulders backin anticipation, breathing deeply. The smooth, leathery membrane quivered, water droplets rolling off as Leon ran his fingers from the base to as high as he could reach, holding back a chuckle as Cloud lowered his wing to allow him to reach the tip. It amused him how much the blonde loved the contact, and he had to admit, though only in a small corner of his mind, that he enjoyed it too. Otherwise he wouldn't do it in the first place, but he would rather not think about the reasons behind the action and just do it.

He fingered the area around the gash on the small of Cloud's back. Luckily, the Revolver hadn't gone deep, but it did look uncomfortable—anytime he shifted, the wound would pull. He muttered a _Cure_ and there was a green shimmer that clotted the rest of the blood.

The only sound was that of the water trickling over rocks, a crystalline sound, and it flowed around them like the tinkling of a harp serenading the calm. His hands rested easily on Cloud's shoulders, listening to his breathing and the water, enjoying the moment. The skin underneath his hands was warm and inviting, and he sighed and leaned his forehead on the base of Cloud's neck and now the heat spread across his forehead and made him feel heavy and clouded, like he was under a trance where everything seemed to be going in slow motion and whirling about him.The air was molasses, and the sound of rushing water a far-off echo in his ears.

Minutes that seemed like days or years, or a second in retrsospect passed. In this position, it was easy to feel the sudden tension in Cloud's shoulders, and he felt the back of Cloud's head bump with the top of his as the blonde leaned his head back in surprise, but he ignored it. He was feeling drowsy and at peace, and he like the cold that bathed his body and the warmth that spread through his hands and face. And his scent… Leon thought it was familiar, warm and soothing, but he didn't know from where…it reminded him of burnt honey—something fiery, but sweet…

And Cloud didn't say anything, relaxing and leaning back, wondering what had come over Leon. He wasn't going to deny that he didn't like it—it was more surprising than anything, Leon was shy of skin contact, contact of any kind, it seemed, and yet here he was initiating it, and Cloud wondered how he was supposed to respond. He didn't mind—Leon's hands on his shoulders were a comfortable weight, and he could feel the warm bursts of air on his back as Leon's breathing slowed, and his own heartbeat slowed too as if in response to the calming atmosphere.

But he was afraid too, of what this meant, and he couldn't describe _why_ exactly… was he afraid of getting close to Leon? Was he afraid of the comfort and intoxicating calm that was consuming him, a sort of dizzy rush that made him want to just stand there, with Leon's breathing warming his back, and now ghosting over his ear and along his shoulder, and he couldn't really register what was going on, only that he felt like this was a surreal dream, and he was dying, drowning in this feeling of dizzying calm…

"…Cloud."

"Leon…" he responded shakily, hoping his voice wasn't trembling like he thought it was. Leon's chin now rested on his shoulder, his hand having moved down to loosely cling to the younger man's forearm, and the hot breath made him shiver again. Cloud lifted his arm slowly, bumping it into Leon's cheek and hesitantly reaching further back, digging into his smooth, slightly damp hair, threading it through his fingers and with Leon's mouth at the shell of his ear, he was able to hear the contented noise that slipped from it. He turned his head slightly, exposing to Leon the curve of his neck, and murmured, "It's getting late."

Yet his hand didn't move from where it was entangled in Leon's hair, and Leon didn't lift his chin from where it dug into Cloud's shoulder, and neither truly minded, though they knew they were treading into unfamiliar and possibly dangerous territory… but it didn't feel like it.

"You're cold," was the eventual response, a low rumbling that made the blonde's breath catch with how electrifying it was.

"You're the one shivering," he pulled a strand of chocolate hair to emphasize his point. Leon's fingers were quivering on Cloud's arm, though he really wasn't sure whether it was just from the cold. How had this happened? How had they reached this point, where their bodies were so close they shared the heat that the water was slowly draining from them? It had happened so slowly, so naturally, so _unconsciously,_ that it was almost frightening.

The sudden movement of Cloud stepping away from him, the hand that had been running through his hair sliding out—he'd hadn't realized how hypnotizing the feeling was— and the splash of cold water as his hand slipped off Cloud's shoulder and into the water jarred him from the trance he'd been under the whole time, and he stood in shock for a moment, regaining his bearings.

Cloud's glowing sapphires were watching him coyly, though his lips were pulled in a slight smile, and in a smooth movement, the blonde leaned forward, his hand pressing briefly against Leon's chest as did so, cold and wet from the water. His lower lip brushed against Leon's earlobe, and the voice was almost nonexistent, so that it broke like waves on a rocky shore before smoothing out like silk, "Let's go."

Then it was gone, though the trailing breath had traveled along his jaw and just above his own lips. Cloud turned back around, shifting through the current, and Leon shivered and watched him go, reaching up to touch his ear dazedly.

And he didn't know why, but something inside him was beating madly.

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**Wow... I get so... rushed or dazed when I write stuff like this, cause I get so caught up in the moment, it's just like your mind's floating somewhere... I hope I did a good job portaying the sensual tension here, because it's so hard to write, but so exciting at the same time. Now, here though I need comments on how I did with their in-characterness. **


	4. A Movie

**Yo! Back again, with another chapter, and with more in store, though I'm not really sure where this is _going_. But oh well. I'm really happy at all the reviews, they totally make my day and some are pretty thoughful. And we've reached 2000 hits:very happy:**

**Enjoy! **

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_**Broken Rituals- Movie**_

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"Damn it."

Cloud took a moment to register the sound in the otherwise quiet streets of Traverse Town. It was cloudy, the sky threatening to unleash a violent storm at any minute, and the dark streets had been emptied for that reason. He turned his head the fraction of an inch necessary to catch Leon's form from the corner of his eye, and the moving shape in the otherwise still background was clear in his peripheral vision.

"…What?" the blonde finally asked, and he might have been curious as to why Leon was currently patting his chest and checking his pockets, his movements becoming increasingly more aggressive as frustration began to take over. But the urge to yawn and the weight of his tired muscles was rather distracting, and he kept on walking, regardless of whether Leon decided to follow him or not.

"Where's Griever?" Leon muttered, and Cloud resisted rolling his eyes. How would Cloud know? Heck, he didn't even know what Leon was _talking_ about in the first place, much less where this 'Griever' was. But Leon had to be Leon, and if he said 'I can't find Griever', it would make him look irresponsible, and if he said 'I'm looking for Griever' it would have come out sharp and sarcastic, and Cloud would have been insulted and… had Leon actually tried to not insult Cloud?

The ex-SOLDIER shook his head, berating himself. He was looking _way_ too much into Leon's words now. Instead, he raised his eyebrow, and when Leon finally caught sight of his slightly puzzled expression, he sighed and turned around.

"Griever, the chain I wear around my neck," and Cloud thought it had sounded like an especially vulnerable thing for Leon to admit, maybe because of the way Leon had said it, "I'm going back to the waterway to search for it."

"Wait, you mean the lion-shaped one?" Cloud asked, pulling Leon back quickly, "You left it in the bathroom this morning, remember?"

Silver eyes seemed to mull over this, dubious, "I took it off? And didn't put it back on?"

Cloud nodded, and Leon frowned inwardly, because it was so strange for Leon to have taken the necklace off, and then not remember to put it on—he was so meticulous about it, it was just… habit. There was a short internal debate over whether to believe Cloud— it wasn't, per say, that he _doubted_ Cloud, but for Leon to have forgotten to put Griever back on was so very rare… but then again, why would Cloud lie?

"It was getting caught in your brush when you were brushing your hair, so you took it off so the chain wouldn't break," Cloud explained as the silence stretched out, and he could feel that Leon wanted to go back to the waterway just to double-check. He wasn't sure if he should feel hurt that he wasn't being believed, but then again, had it been important enough to Cloud, he would have rather double-checked as well. Solider-bred efficiency, right?

"…Hn…" Leon gave Cloud a thorough look, and Cloud hoped he wasn't wondering how Cloud had to have been very observant of Leon to have remembered all that, but all he added was, "You better be right."

The blonde shrugged, letting Leon begin to walk ahead of him, and yawned. He wanted to ask why the chain was so important to him, but if Leon wanted to share that with him, he could of his own accord. Neither of them were the prying type, but then again, neither was the sharing type either, so it took a little prying to get them to say _anything_. It was a wonder they were so compatible, at least to other people.

"You… seem a little more tired than usual," Leon said tentatively, sparing him a quick glance back to note his slowed steps and almost distracted gaze.

The blonde shrugged, making sure his steps quickened to match Leon's, "Well, there was more fighting today than usual. But I'll just sleep it off, so it's no big deal," his head ached though, and that was a bit of a problem. He hoped it wouldn't turn into one of those horrible migraines he periodically got. He held the bridge of his nose, slightly irked when the increased pressure only seemed to make it worse.

Thunder brewed its disrupting concoction in the sky, and they both looked up at the pale gray expanse—how was it that clouds that made the sky darker in the day made it lighter at night?

He wondered if that was symbolic of himself in any way.

The first misting droplets of water were sauntering down to haze the air as they shook off their coats at the front door and walked in. The house was quiet, Cid was probably in the gummi garage, and unless they wanted to hear some rather colorful vocabulary, they'd leave him there as long he wanted. Aerith around this time was probably either helping him or doing some housework—it wouldn't be until about two more hours before she began making dinner. And Yuffie—well, Yuffie could have been anywhere.

With the Buster and Revolver leaning casually against a corner of the living room, Cloud made a beeline for the couch for his daily nap.

"You might want to change your shirt," Leon interrupted, and the blonde looked down confusedly, only to see the messy stains of a hard day's work gracing his shirt. Sighing heavily—he really had just wanted to lie down and sleep— Cloud headed up the stairs to his room, rubbing his temple sorely as the bright lights inside made him squint painfully. Leon watched him quietly from the kitchen doorway, and as soon as his figure disappeared past the top of the stairs, walked inside the kitchen. He had something quick to do before retrieving Griever.

When Cloud descended the stairs to head straight for the couch, he'd intended to walk past Leon, maybe expecting a soft stroke of his wing along the way, but Leon held out a glass of water in front of him, wrapping Cloud's fingers around the glass himself when the blonde didn't take it at first.

"Here," was all he said, and now he was the one who walked past Cloud, and indeed, there was a gentle touch that ghosted underneath his chin and along the skin of his neck, then disappeared.

Cloud turned to ask for an explanation, but Leon was gone, and so he could only frown confusedly and shake his head, stopping as the movement resulted in a tremendous pound of his head. He set the glass aside to be forgotten on the table, but accidentally knocked something over. His eyes narrowed confusedly as he saw that the item was a bottle of aspirin that had definitely not been there before. Then it clicked. So that was what the water had been for…

"Thanks," he murmured gratefully, downing two pills and taking a swig of water.

"Spiiiiikey, Squaaaaally!"

Cloud jumped at the sudden noise, beating his chest in an attempt to keep from choking on the pills and glanced up as the door was slammed open and Yuffie practically blasted herself in. Would that girl never learn subtlety?

"Hey, Yuffie," he managed tiredly, and she gave him a thumbs up, "Hey, Aerith," he added as the flower girl entered much more sedately behind her, closing the door.

"How was the day?" she smiled at him, hefting the groceries in her arms.

He shrugged, "Uneventful."

"What's with all the noise?" Leon grumbled, scowling and coming down the stairs, Griever back in its rightful place swinging from his neck and stroked by a callused hand, "Can't you see some people are trying to sleep?" Cloud blushed to know that he was defending him, even if Yuffie, for Aerith surely had, didn't recognize it.

"But I have a better plan that boring ol' _sleep_," she grinned, bouncing cheerfully up to Leon and waving an item in front of his face, "You guys wanna watch a movie?"

"It looks good," Aerith added.

Leon looked at Aerith blankly after reading the summary, having snatched it from Yuffie, "It's a romance."

"It's got awesome ninja action it though!"

Leon looked at Cloud, and Cloud looked back and shrugged, "Why not?"

"You sure?" silver eyes flickered to the aspirin bottle.

Cloud had to admit that he was amused that Leon was so concerned with him, "Yeah, it's not going to kill me to skip a nap," he purposely avoided mentioning the headache, because Aerith would go into mother-hen mode, and Yuffie wouldn't be any quieter anyway.

The brunet looked dubiously at Cloud before turning the same gaze on the girls, "…Whatever. I'll sit with you guys, but I'll be reading."

"What a lame-o," Yuffie smirked, swatting Leon on the head as she bypassed him to stick the tape in the VCR. Leon scoffed and drew a book from the shelf, settling next to Cloud on the couch, since it was the only place that had a lamp next to it.

"I've been wanting to watch this for_ever_," the ninja girl rambled on, "It's got some reeeally cute actors in it," and to Cloud's horror as a man, both Yuffie _and_ Aerith giggled at that. Leon's raised eyebrow told him he shared the same thoughts.

Leon wasn't really interested in the movie, but the book he had wasn't exactly a thriller either, and so he found himself glancing occasionally, when the action in the movie or the book stilled, at Cloud. He thought it was kind of cute how he'd curled up on the couch, his legs tucked comfortably underneath him, leaning his head on the armrest, simply gazing at the screen. Leon might have tried doing the same, but the position wasn't as comfortable for Leon, considering Cloud was so much smaller than him. He also wondered how it was that his wing was folded behind his back, poking out like a misplaced sign of the apocalypse, without causing him discomfort. He wondered why Cloud had bothered watching the movie, since his eyes would droop every once in a while, and it appeared like he was only half-absorbing the action anyway. But every once in a while, Cloud would covertly glance at him, only to find Leon's eyes already trained on him, and they would both stare for a moment before hurriedly refocusing their attention on the book or movie. After it happened for the third time, though, Leon firmly forbid himself from looking at Cloud… directly, at least. But Cloud's foot was lightly pressed into his thigh, creating a warm spot, and the physical reminder that Cloud was _there_, next to him, made it nearly impossible to resist looking back. He kept him in the corner of his vision, but he was blurry there, and with that kid of restraint, he found the book at last held his attention more than the love-sick movie Yuffie and Aerith were alternatively squealing and sighing over. How old were they, anyway? He thought only love-struck teenage girls made noises like that… but then he thought of Selphie, and Rinoa and Quistis, and remembered their silly romance movie marathons, and how even Quistis had been unbearably girly for days after those.

The pain had lessened, but Cloud still felt overly foggy and tired. The movie barely made sense, and only a few words filtered through the haze in his head, but at least he could understand what was going on visually, even if he wasn't working very hard at deciphering it. He realized just how little he was absorbing from the movie though when Yuffie and Aerith suddenly burst out laughing, and when Cloud looked over, startled, saw even Leon had a small smirk on his face. Apparently, he had missed a joke. A good one, judging by the fact that even Leon had enjoyed it.

He had, after that, tried to pay attention, but could not figure out the deeper implications of much of the dialogue, and only managed to catch one or two of the straightforward jokes. The action was good, he had to admit, but he just couldn't focus with his eyes closing periodically, and the presence of Leon hovering over him. He could hear the page of his book turning occasionally, and his toes were pressed against Leon's leg, but he didn't want to call attention to it. If Leon hadn't said anything, it meant he either hadn't noticed or didn't care.

With his head lying on the armrest, he was free to slide his line of sight from the movie to Leon without moving his head more than a fraction of an inch. To his surprise, the first time he glanced over, Leon was just watching him, as one watches something vaguely interesting, or awe-inspiring, like a dew-covered flower in the morning breeze. It took a moment for Leon to notice that the object of his attention was now returning it, and when the realization hit him, his eyes immediately widened, and he flushed, turning back to his book as Cloud tried to figure out what was going on in the movie once again. It happened two more times, however, each time leaving the blonde more and more amused at Leon's discomfiture when he was caught staring. It was probably because Cloud was too sleepy to care, otherwise he might have been embarrassed too. It only happened three times, and after that, Cloud was free to sneak in glances whenever he wanted, because the other man didn't look back.

In the dim lamplight, Leon's profile was incredibly striking and enticing, as light curved over his features and left contrasting shadows and different values of shades to form contours over his face. His eyes involuntarily followed a line of motion that traced the curve of his eye, where light glinted, drawing his eyes immediately to it, down the graceful, almost delicate slopes of his forehead, nose and chin, and ending at the strong line of his jaw. It was true that while there was an air of unmistakable masculinity and strength about the brunet, accentuated by the casual stray locks of hair that seemed to rest pleasantly on his shoulders, there was a touch of femininity to his face. Many people called Cloud effeminate because of his face and small body, but Leon's pale, smooth skin could rival Aerith's on any day, and his eyes, framed by thick, long lashes, were an entrancing silver that glanced almost coyly at one. Cloud would guess that these effeminate features had been even more pronounced during his teenage years, when a childish roundness of the face would have eased the jut of his jaw, filled his cheeks and made his eyes look bigger. He wished he could have seen him when he was younger, Cloud was sure that he too had been confused for a tomboyish girl more than a few times when he had been young.

But the movie dragged on, and the aspirin was wearing off, and his head soon began pounding, often in rhythm with the painfully grating clangs of swords or numchuks or whatever they were. He shifted to a sitting position, rubbing his head sorely and hating how his vision seemed to tilt slightly. It still wasn't at migraine level though, and he hoped it would stay that way. Staring blankly at the screen, fogginess overtook him, and he felt his head sliding to the side. But before he had time to really process it, and even further, to stop himself, his head landed on a firm, soft pillow. And because it was comfortable, and unresisting, he left it there. In fact, he shifted a bit to make himself more comfortable against it.

As soon as Cloud's head thumped gently against his shoulder, Leon froze. Cloud had apparently sat up, but that hadn't worked for long, and he'd now fallen asleep—directly on Leon. For a couple moments, he didn't look or move, feeling much like the proverbial deer in the headlights, afraid to call attention to this… incident. Had Cloud done it on purpose? Did he realize that he'd just leaned his head on Leon's shoulder? And—did he just… _snuggle_ against him?

Leon finally drew in a shaky breath—when, and why had his pulse began to race, and why was breathing suddenly a conscious act, where he had to control each tight breath that passed through his lungs? Closing his eyes briefly, he finally gathered the courage to raise his head and turn in, not sure why it was that it took _courage_ to do so. His first instinct was to reel back upon being met with a faceful of hair that tickled. But the smell… it was sharply scented chamomile, with just a hint of cinnamon, and he recognized the shampoo that was in the shower, the one he bypassed in favor of melon or blueberry or something-or-the-other. The hair was soft, brushing against his face ticklishly and softly, and he cautiously buried his face in further, savoring the silky feel. Somewhere in the back of his head there was a vague thought about how ridiculous this was, and _what was he doing?_ But it felt good, and the opposing side told him that Cloud was sleeping, and Yuffie and Aerith were too enthralled with the movie to look over. The sweet smell was calming, reminding him of the gentle whirl of aquamarine eyes that had the same effect on him, and he leaned his head over a bit to catch sight of the sleeping face.

His eyes were closed, and for the first time, Leon thought he looked strangely vulnerable and child-like. Leon wouldn't say he looked exactly peaceful, as his brow was slightly furrowed in mild discomfort, he discerned it was probably because of the headache. But he did look younger, and unguarded, as most people did when they slept. For a moment, the thought that he looked the same way when he slept scared Leon. Young and unguarded was the least of the things he ever wanted, no, _needed,_ to look like.

He nearly jumped when Yuffie's exclamation over something in the movie startled him, and was about to shove off Cloud instinctively, but saw that they were still too caught up in the movie to notice anything else. He gauged that it would still be a while before the movie ended, and in the meantime… he glanced down at the sleeping blonde pressed against him. Well… he figured he had no reason not to leave Cloud were he was, he was sleeping well enough, and Leon knew he'd been tired—for one, he had been when they'd come home, and secondly, he hadn't had that daily nap of his tonight.

It was easy to tune out the sounds of the girls and the movie, and his world soon shrank to the confines of the lamp-lit couch, his vision limited to the words of his book and occasionally, the sleeping form resting against him. The pressure on his side and shoulder made him subconsciously shift, and he suddenly realized, though he didn't bother to correct it and continued reading, that he in turn had leaned his head on Cloud's.

He was jerked from his book by Yuffie's sudden wail, "Why'd he have to dieeee?" and found Aerith and her hugging each other tightly, crying like… goodness, like something had actually _happened _that merited crying. The ending credits were scrolling down the screen, and the room, save for the lamp, was bathed in the quiet afterglow of a movie ending.

He stiffened and whirled about, then stared helplessly at Cloud, not sure how to move him aside before the girls finally looked over. He really didn't want to disturb him, but he had only a couple moments before they glanced over, and Leon wasn't sure how it would look to have Cloud snuggling against him. So he used his free arm to budge the blonde off his shoulder gently, hoping that he wouldn't wake him up, mentally wincing and feeling slightly guilty as he had to push harder for Cloud's body to fall to the other side, once again against the armrest. The blonde's head lolled uselessly to the side, a soft moan sounding from his throat, and Leon couldn't help but feel overly guilty. He had always been easily pushed into guilt-trips when he'd been younger, and that particular characteristic hadn't left him even into adulthood.

"That was so good!" large, ridiculously mournful eyes turned to him, and he rolled his eyes and sighed, pretending that he had not just been nearly freaking out over what they _almost_ had seen. He set his book down and stretched as if that had been all he'd done during the whole length of the movie.

"I wouldn't know," he said smoothly. Aerith too finally glanced over, and her eyes alighted immediately on Cloud, softening noticeably as she wiped a few stray tears from her face.

"Aw! He fell asleep! How cute! You should have seen him when he was younger, he was the most adorable thing ever!" Yuffie cooed upon seeing Cloud as well, and Leon glared and pressed his hand over her mouth.

"Not so loud," he muttered.

"Uell, we waf foo waikim up;—" she began, through Leon's hand, and he sighed and removed it, "The movie ended, we gotta wake 'im up so he can go to bed."

He scowled, "No, we don't. I can take him up," he mentally frowned as he realized that he'd just offered to carry Cloud, and he looked at Aerith warily to gage her reaction. But all she did was smile.

"That'd be good, it'd be better if we didn't wake him up."

He gazed down at the blonde, and rather reluctantly bent down, sliding his arms carefully underneath his legs, which he had to semi-straighten out first, and across his shoulder blades, and Cloud moaned softly. He hefted him carefully into a secure position in his arms, surprised that he wasn't as heavy as he'd imagined, and at how easily his body cupped against his, his cheek lying against Leon's collarbone.

"…You're very gentle with him," Aerith noted quietly, watching Leon, and Yuffie's gaze was sharply calculating too, and it made him feel unnerved. And the worst part was to realize that he was, and not just now, but _always_. Why…? It's not like Cloud wasn't strong enough that he couldn't take rough handling, and Leon himself wasn't the type to nurture and fuss over… gentle? Leon?

"I—No, I'm not, I'm just—" he wasn't sure how to justify the way he was holding Cloud, or any of the other actions that now flashed by his mind, "I don't know what you're talking about," he finally said, but he wasn't too sure either of how convincing that was.

"Right, right," Yuffie grinned widely, and Aerith only smiled mysteriously and stood to pick up the popcorn Yuffie had eaten practically on her own and tidying up.

He grunted in annoyance at their disbelief and climbed up the stairs, nudging Cloud's door open with his foot and depositing him on the bed, wishing that his body wasn't so automatically careful in pulling the blankets over him, or that his fingers didn't want to linger on his face and brush his forehead, down the dip of the bridge of his nose and lifting up gingerly at the tip of his nose.

He bit his lip and as if in response, noticed for the first time Cloud's. Small and thin, like the rest of him, but beautiful, and out of those lips came a soft groan, and Cloud turned his head to the side. Leon felt the urge to let his hand stroke his hair, and somehow couldn't find the will, or reason, to stop it, and so he let his hand fall upon his forehead, stroking it tenderly with his thumb as his fingertips massaged his skull. Cloud's drawn eyebrows relaxed and his face tilted up almost expectantly, querying.

"Zax…?"

Leon's hand paused, and then he completely removed it, lowering his eyes. He found that he could no longer look at Cloud's face, because there was an odd feeling constricting his chest, and though he couldn't understand it, he wanted it to be _his_ name that came out of those lips he'd been staring at.

He talked about this Zax an awful lot, Leon admitted to himself, and that was all he dared to admit as he closed the door behind him.

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**Pretty soon, when I have enough content for a full chapter, I'll post two more LeonxCloud fics, and am actually really interested in Axel/Roxas/Zexion (yeah, I know, where the heck did I get that?) But anyway, thanks a LOT for all the reviews, it's totally awesome! Hope you liked**


	5. Rejection

**Ugh, after forever, I finally got this chapter out! Sorry for the long wait and everything! **

**Enjoy! **

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**Broken Rituals: Rejections**

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A lazy grin that Squall knew was there even without seeing it. 

"_You in another one of your funks, Squally-boy?" _

_An arm that was warm, and comfortable, but because Squall didn't know how to take it, preferred to scoot away. _

"_Aw, c'mon, you're going to break my heart that way, darlin'."_

_A sigh, coming from Squall's own lips, and around them, the wind blew his hair into his face, tickling his nose. _

_Silence, and then the toes of two cowboy boots appeared in the top of his vision, currently focused on his own dark leather shoes. Squall sighed. _

"_Irvine… not right now, I just want some time alone." _

_Some more silence, and the boots moved a little closer, and Squall started as something landed on his head, and the boots disappeared from his vision, replaced by some obscuring object. _

"_Alright, but I'm coming back to get my hat in an hour." _

_Once he was gone, Squall took the hat off, fingering it gently and placing his face in the hollow. He could smell Irvine's hair._

_And he did come back, when the sun was beginning an arc towards the horizon, and there was a faint tint of gold on the land spread out below him. He could see all of Balamb from the balcony. _

"_Still here, hm? And still in a funk." _

_Squall said nothing, quickly removing his hand from the rim of the hat, which he had been stroking comfortingly._

_In a way, he was expecting it, but it was still surprising when the cowboy sniper suddenly decided to plop down beside him, unabashedly laying his head on Squall's shoulder. Squall still said nothing. The breeze blew around them again, cool and whispering. _

"_Nice view, huh?"_

_Squall nodded, his chin rubbing against Irvine's forehead and stray locks of golden red hair. Fresh air wafted into his mouth as he opened it. _

"_What are you doing here?" _

"_Eh, not much. Felt like watching the scenery too. You can continue this little funk of yours with some company, right? Commander Leonhart can do just about anything he sets his mind to."_

_The laid-back voice was rumbling and relaxing. It reminded him of a scratchy record, background noise that was missed when it was stopped, but not always appreciated while playing. He hadn't particularly liked Irvine's last comment._

_He mulled over the reasons for a long time. He wasn't sure he liked being the Commander. So many things in his hands, so many lives, and he felt so inadequate. These thoughts were like broken records. He wanted to throw them away, once and for all. _

"_Here's your hat," he half hoped Irvine wouldn't take it, even as he held it out. It meant he'd leave, and the comfortable weight made him feel nostalgic for the comfort he'd always wanted, but rarely sought, and hence, rarely got. _

_A thoughtful hum. _

"_Nah, keep it on. Looks cute. I'll take it back tomorrow."_

_And he did come back the next morning, this time with a kiss on the cheek and an easy, understanding smile that Squall wouldn't understand until years later._

Leon sat at the edge of his bed for a long tome, staring miserably at the floor where his shoes lay haphazardly—_So similar to the ones he'd used to wear back then—_and reluctantly allowed his gaze to travel to the cowboy hat that hung on the wall. Not Irvine's, as that one had been on the cowboy's head ―_Always wore it, except when he'd playfully put it on Squall― _when their world had been swallowed by the Heartless, along with him and everyone else Leon treasured. But he had bought it at the bidding of the overwhelming nostalgia he'd felt when his eyes had lighted on it.

He wondered if normal people cried. He couldn't ―_wouldn't, even if Irvine had told him he could― _and only felt a deep emptiness, like everything around him was two-dimensional, and he couldn't think of tomorrow, because it was all shrouded in darkness anyway. And guilt, he felt a lot of that too. He hadn't thought of Irvine in a long time ―_You're killing me here, darlin', talk to us, Squall― _mostly because it hurt, it was easier to think of Seifer, because he could replace the pain with anger in his case, but with Irvine, it was just an empty hole where the loss had occurred. But lately it was because his thoughts had been occupied with someone else and the sudden guilt made him lower his head in shame and denial, his eyes shut tight ―_You'll be alright, Squall, you always are, just smile once in a while. _

_I'm here for you, after all. _

He shut the voice out and took the hat off its hook, gripping it for a moment before placing it on his head.

It didn't smell like Irvine, and hadn't been broken in, sitting stiffly atop his head, but just the mere feel of the weight that he had come to associate with comfort and love ―_Irvine― _made him feel just a little better.

He opened the window, letting the night air ride over his face coolly, but it wasn't true night air, where there was a difference in temperature and that slight humidity, and the atmosphere was still, but brimming with potential energy. The only difference between Traverse Town's day and night was a slight lightening of color, and the air was just a tad drier in the day, but nothing truly discernable. If anything, the only telling sign would be the amount of people out. He'd used to like nighttime more than daytime, but this was ridiculous, and certainly aided his brooding moods ―_Don't be depressed like that, it's not good for the health—or help you score chicks. Not that you need that with me around, right? ― _He hated the perpetual darkness just as much as Cloud, it was simply that he'd gotten used to it.

He groaned at that thought and looked up at the stars, dulled by Traverse's bright neon lights. Cloud.

He felt so guilty—Irvine had given him so much, and Leon had no right to ever forget him, even for a second, much less replace him in his thoughts with someone else. It's just that it was so easy to become wrapped up in observing Cloud—from the way he tilted his head when he was displeased with something, the way his weight shifted when he stood and walked, or to the feel of his strength pushing against his when they battled. It didn't help that they spent so much time together, or that there seemed to be some invisible force pulling them together, some gravitation that Leon sometimes unconsciously followed before stopping and realizing with confusion how _strong_ it truly was. He bit his lip, feeling almost _ashamed_ that he could have dismissed Irvine from his thoughts, painful as they were.

The bed hardly looked comfortable, even if it was the middle of the night. He needed to clear his thoughts, and sitting cooped up in his room wasn't helping at all. It was too much, to know that _he_ was in the room next door, and the thought stayed with him as he changed into his usual leather clothes and grabbed the Revolver. And as he walked by the half-open door, determinedly avoiding even a glance at the blonde he knew he'd be able to see from this angle, he wondered why it felt like there was a magnet trying to pull his face in to look anyway.

_No_. He had a duty, to Irvine. Besides, Cloud had Zax.

OoO

Cloud rolled over in his bed, doggedly trying to reclaim sleep with his head underneath the pillow. In his vaguely conscious state, he could hear sounds coming from the hallway and beyond—Leon, in the bathroom probably. Which didn't make sense, because there had been no wake-up knock on his door, but maybe Leon had forgotten, or had waken up earlier and decided to give Cloud a couple extra minutes, or some similarly mundane reason. However, when he pushed up a corner of the pillow to look out from underneath it, he saw through his half-open door that the bathroom door was ajar, and the lights off. Unused. The sounds in fact, were not coming from the bathroom, but from downstairs, meaning the girls were up and making breakfast. He could hear the muffled echoes of Yuffie's voice and the clank of metal pans. Had Leon forgotten to wake him? That was hardly possible, as his door was open, and this was a daily habit, and it would be rather hard to overlook that Cloud wasn't right next to him as he usually was in the mornings. So… the only other option was for Leon to have overslept.

Two and two didn't add up, and the gears in his head had to work through sleepy cobwebs to realize that something was off. In all the time Cloud had been in Traverse, Leon had never once overslept. In fact, he was the first one to wake up every morning, with Cloud towing behind. He blinked through the confusion in his head, surprised to feel slight alarm rising inside him as he stumbled out of bed and rushed out of his room. What could have happened to make Leon, of all people, _oversleep_?

However, when he stood in Leon's doorway, his alarm was stopped cold and replaced by simple nothing, an emptiness that washed over him like thick, lead-loaded water. The bed was empty, hastily made, with stray wrinkles decorating the otherwise plain coverlet, and a feathery breeze blew in unnoticed from the open window. He wasn't sure why, but looking around the empty room and sinking down on the bed as the brief adrenaline faded out of him made him feel… disappointed.

He scoffed and flopped over, planting his face into Leon's pillow and exhaling. He had no reason to feel like that whatsoever. Leon wasn't obligated to tell him where he was and what he was doing. Not only was Cloud not his mother, or Aerith, but they weren't close enough for that either…

It was just that… well, if something was the matter, Cloud had somehow thought that maybe Leon would come to him… and he really had no reason to even think that, because Cloud himself would probably not have gone to Leon to tell _him_ his personal problems. He felt ridiculous and frustrated with himself at having expected something like that of Leon when he wasn't ready to give the same. He growled and shoved away his disappointment as anger because it was so much easier to deal with and raised himself just enough to punch Leon's pillow _hard_, then let himself fall back onto the bed, his face planted squarely on the large pillow.

He was surprised to find that he could vaguely distinguish Leon's smell from the pillow as he breathed in. He'd thought that was just a fake romance ploy when such things happened in novels and such, but he breathed in again just to make sure, and indeed, sifting among almost stale or musty pillow-air, he could smell something else, stronger, but just as evasive. He wasn't sure if it was really Leon's scent,—Maybe it was just a decomposing goose feather, or mold, or some weird thing— but for some reason he felt like delusion was a path he would much rather take, and buried his face in deeper to see if he could catch a stronger whiff. It was… warm, and reminded him of woods, a scent that was so rare in his world and always left a strong impression on him— of redwoods and towering pines.

The calm he'd managed to gather like that fled him when he finally stood to get ready for the day and remembered that Leon had disappeared somewhere without bothering to tell him. And what upset him the most wasn't that he was angry at Leon's actions, but that he'd been stupid enough to expect that the older man _would_ tell him. He felt ridiculous and naive, but most of all, disappointed. He barely held back from slamming the door behind him, and when he spit in the sink the water was tinged with blood from brushing his teeth too hard, and his scalp fared little better when he brushed his hair.

He stalked down the stairs, and both Yuffie and Aerith turned to look at him, smiling brightly. He hadn't realized he'd been scowling until his face relaxed a bit, feeling like bits of clay were falling in clumps from his face muscles, and with a pleased start realized that they probably knew where the brunet had gone off to.

"Morning, Cloud!" Yuffie clapped him on the shoulder and blinked as she saw no one following him, "Where's grouch-face?"

"Oh," so they didn't know. His frustration went up one notch.

"Oh? What kinda response is 'oh?'" the ninja demanded with a roll of her eyes. Aerith's eyebrows drew together slightly as the blond only scowled further, roughly drawing out a chair and settling himself in it.

"…He left?" the flower girl guessed, and Cloud's grit teeth were enough of an answer.

"Well, that's not good," Yuffie scratched her head, pouting, "Leon only does that when he's depressed. It's been a while since that's happened," she paused and suddenly raised one of her eyebrows, giving Cloud a look he knew he was supposed to interpret, but subconsciously decided it was safer not to at this point, "Hmm… Well, whadaya know, that hasn't happened since _you_ came here!"

Hardened sapphires ignored the comment, choosing instead to glare moodily at some nondescript spot on the wall. Aerith placed a pile of pancakes on the table, but Cloud didn't touch them, and for the first time, she didn't press the subject further, wringing her hands as she looked out the window.

"Will you go look for him?"

Cloud's head snapped up, and he looked at her incredulously. Well, sure, he'd figured he would eventually, but Aerith usually didn't intervene much unless she felt it was necessary.

"He never listens to me or Yuffie," she continued, "But I have a feeling he might listen to you."

"What makes you say that?" Cloud bit out. _It's not like he considers me a friend… and I shouldn't have either…_

"You can relate better to him than we can," she responded, watching his anger dilute under insecurity at the prospect of his task. He hesitated.

"And what am I supposed to say to him?"

Gentle green eyes very deliberately paused, as if trying to measure out the weight of her words, "Think of what Zax would have said to you were it you and him in this position."

Just the name, uttered by lips other than his, was enough to make a shiver course down his spine, and he couldn't look her in the eyes for a moment.

"I'm… not him," he murmured, but it sounded false, and ironic, since he'd spent a good part of his life believing he was Zax and living with his memories. But that in itself had been false anyway.

"Yeah, what do you expect one moody guy to do for another moody guy?" Yuffie jibed and proceeded to mimick their deep voices, " 'My life sucks,' — 'Yeah, mine too. Let's brood together.' "

Cloud might have quirked a smile, if he hadn't been too preoccupied with that pained, nostalgic feeling he got every time he thought of Zax, the one that buried itself inside his gut and stayed there even after the memories weren't as vivid and the subject was no longer foremost in his mind. In any case, he appreciated her attempt to cheer him up.

"Just… please go talk to him. I get so worried about him when he gets like that," Aerith pleaded, but Cloud knew that she could worry about practically anything, so her worry didn't particularly affect him.

It surprised Cloud to see the sketches of worry in Yuffie's eyes and her quiet voice, though. He found that the fact that even Yuffie was concerned troubled him more than anything else had that morning, "It's scary when he's all depressed and junk."

Aerith sighed and looked at him, and he tried to avoid feeling guilty at her saddened look, so he left without another word, gathering the Buster sword and letting it click into place on his shoulder. At this point, he had little choice, and it wasn't just their pleads that were pushing him along.

The streets were humid, and the clouds seemed laden with moisture, but their shade told him it wouldn't rain anytime soon. He ran his hand through his hair, pulling at the roots, and mused on how pain was actually rather distracting. But he wasn't a masochist, and he'd had more than his fair share of pain in his twenty-some years of life. He didn't really need anymore. Had he given it more thought, he'd have realized that was the reason he felt so unsure of his growing ease and familiarity around the brunet man he was currently searching the still-sleeping streets for. Leon wasn't the only one afraid of rejection.

He was skirting around the pressing subject in his mind and he knew it. He scanned the streets with sapphires made a shade darker by worry, and he felt like there was a rope tied around his body, dragging him forward without a thought to the anxiety and anger brewing inside him.

But now that anger was secondary, since it _had_ been his own fault that he'd trusted Leon enough to delude himself into believing he could be his confidant. He'd never been really angry about that fact, just frustrated at himself and feeling stupid about it. Those feelings he had replaced with anger were now left raw as his resentment was washed away by confusion and concern. The streets around him were only beginning to rouse, the streetlamps brightening to allow better visibility in the dark day. Empty, and noiseless, except for the occasional Heartless he ran Buster through. Meaning it had been a while since Leon had come through here, if he had at all, if the Heartless were beginning to reappear.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, schooling his face into the stony façade he'd mastered throughout the course of his life, knowing it would easily hide the litter of emotions inside, and the one thought that unnerved him the most.

_And if I do find Leon, then what? _

Cloud was no psychiatrist, he had enough junk in his life to deal with, and rather unsuccessfully, he might add— he was most certainly not qualified to try to help Leon, much less when he knew nothing of his sparring partner and doubted he'd be told anything even if he asked. What the hell was he supposed to do when he found Leon?

The blond couldn't get his head around it. Leon had seemed fine just the night before—in good humor, even, he'd laughed at one of Yuffie's jokes, and helped Aerith wash the dishes while Cloud talked to Cid about the upcoming Coliseum Tournament. What could have happened to turn his mood around so drastically?

Well, if anything, he could start conversation off with that. They'd proposed to participate in the next tournament as a team, and Cloud couldn't deny that he was excited. The mere thought of fighting alongside Leon, instead of battling against him, sent bursts of electricity to raise the flesh of his skin, making his stomach clench in pleasant anticipation. But now was not the time to be thinking about that—he had to find Leon.

Merlin would not be up at this hour, leaving Cloud with little other choice than to slosh through the waterway to check their training spot. Cloud had often gone there to think, and he had a hunch he'd be able to find the former SEED commander there. It was calm and secluded, and the burbling of liquid rivulets always made him feel at peace.

But contrary to his original instinct, he found that his footsteps echoed emptily in the stony corridor, and the water's gurgling was the only sound to accompany his weary sigh.

A sudden thought came to him, and he was only glad that he wasn't the type of person to dwell on what-if's, even if this one was rather disconcerting. What if Leon hadn't voluntarily left, as Aerith and Yuffie had led him to believe— what if something had happened to him? Did the Heartless have anything to do with it? What if he'd been hurt, or kidnapped, or—

He shook his head, focusing instead on the sensation of his spiky bangs brushing ticklishly across his face, and breathed in once to clear his head. He was definitely overreacting, and that was the one thing he hated to do more than anything else. It bothered him to realized that Leon was one of the few people that were able to make him lose control like that— always, this wasn't the first time his mind and body had gone on overload due to some careless action of Leon's.

He figured he was completely wrong about all his sudden what-if's, but the alarm was still there, and it only tightened that rope around his chest even more, and he was getting sick of it. Pathetic. Since when did he worry about people —_Leon—_ like that? Apparently, it's not like they were even friends, he had to keep telling himself.

His disappointment and frustration were like fumes of heavy smoke trailing darkly behind him, and every one of his steps was a demonstration of them to the ground, heavy and grinding. He'd wandered all of Traverse by now, and there were people out on the streets by this time, but he didn't think he'd be able to civilly ask someone if they'd seen Leon. No matter, he'd find the errant brunet on his own.

He turned a corner of third district, hearing a faint jabbering that meant there were Heartless there, and unclipped Buster, holding it at the ready. Then he heard the unmistakable metal clang of a sword, and the _puff_ of evaporating Heartless, and his heart nearly lodged itself in his throat.

There was Leon, surrounded by several small Heartless and a couple Large Bodies. There was already a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he looked slightly distracted and out of sorts, but even as Cloud rushed forward, he had already leapt up and sliced one of the Large Bodies into neat halves.

The first thing that should have struck him as odd was that there was no acknowledgement of his helping presence, but Cloud assumed it due to the fact that they were in the middle of the fight. It took a little over half a minute before the small herd of Heartless was gone, leaving glistening hearts to rise and disappear into the nothingness of the dark sky. Cloud was only aware of a euphoria-like relief that had spread over him like cold water, and he almost didn't care to ask for an explanation, he was so relieved. He replaced Buster on his back, impatiently waiting for Leon to do the same as a barrage of questions and thoughts flitted inside him, and he prepared to release the bottled up frustration he'd been nursing the whole morning, knowing he'd be unable to hide his relief as well.

But as Leon stood with his back to him, wiping his forehead, Cloud instead took notice of the cowboy hat hanging on his back by a neck-string, and he forwent his initial biting anger for amusement at the thought of cowboy-Leon. And that was exactly what came out of his mouth.

He'd realize later how tactless he'd been at that moment, but then again, he'd never been exactly socially adept.

"What's with the hat? You gonna round up some Heartless?" he asked wryly.

And then, too slowly and calculatingly to be unintentional, Leon turned around and walked right past him without giving Cloud even a spare glance.

Cloud could only stand in frozen shock, and somewhere inside noted numbly that this hurt much more than his hell-sent wing ever had.

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**Hm, I get the feeling that this was a little different than the rest of the story, and not just because it's the first chapter that's not self-contained-- meaning that yes, it's not a stand-alone chapter, it'll be continued! I left a cliffhanger :shrug: Kinda. But yeah, a lot of you are commenting similar things. Like... Cloud cross dressing... I'll have to figure out how to incorporate that, andsame with Sephy... Oh,and about Irivine... well, I chose him over Seifer cause I like Irvine/Squall more. And Irvine's like Zax, at least, more than Seifer. **

**Anyway, review pretty please, and if you got any 'broken rituals' that I could make a chapter out of, drop me ideas! **


	6. Destroyed

**Finally! Next chapter up, though it's a bit short, but I wanna see what I get out of it and finish detailing what I have planned in my head for ahead. Oh, couple jots at the end for some ppl cause it needed to be said. It's worth it, read it. **

**Enjoy! Chapter 6!**_

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**_Broken Rituals_**

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_I fucked it up_.

Leon wanted to throw up.

He leaned back against a wall once he was far away enough from where he'd left a shocked Cloud to figure out the reasons behind Leon's actions. The darkness of the alley was comforting—a blanket that hid all his imperfections and screwed up reasoning, and the simple feeling of worthlessness and inadequacy that had plagued him since he was young. He wasn't worth enough to have parents, worth enough to have friends, worth enough to save _everyone_… worth enough to save the one he loved. And as a result, wasn't worth enough to _have_ someone to love.

All he wanted was to forget Cloud existed. Not because he hated him, or thought badly of, no, that was _far_ from it… but because he hated conflict, hated emotions, hated feeling like he was letting Irvine down — _the only person who'd ever really cared. _It would have been so much easier if he'd never met Cloud, if he'd never found himself plagued by thoughts of him. Was that normal? Did it mean anything?

That had been his reason. He'd only wished to suppress his thoughts of Cloud, and what better way to do that than to ignore him? If he didn't look at him, he would be reminded of those electric sapphires, that smooth, rounded face, that stance of shielded iciness, that vulnerability that flickered underneath the calm, soft voice…

He hadn't realized how painful it would be.

For both of them.

He'd been so stupid— he hadn't even considered that he might have actually hurt Cloud's feeling by doing that, and his wide, shocked eyes and the crumbled façade that had revealed the true visage of dejection had been like a punch in the stomach. Like an electrified sting in his chest, like… like someone had taken metal tweezers and pinched him hard. And still hadn't let go.

And now what was he going to do? Apologize? Explain? He scoffed to himself and leaned his head back until it thunked against the wall, and then did it again hard, for good measure. Because he deserved it.

It still didn't solve his problem… he wished he didn't have to look at Cloud again, that was all. That way, he wouldn't have to be reminded of the odd feeling he kept getting in his stomach, nor of the magnet that seemed to be pulling his eyes towards him at all times…

All he'd wanted was to stop feeling. Things were so much easier when you couldn't feel anything.

He felt like the asshole he'd been called so many times in his life. And for good reason—all he did was hurt people's feelings, brush them off as if they were dirty leaves on his pretend-pristine life, and in the end…

He'd let them all down. And not just down, but dead.

He knew he was sulking, but the heaviness was overpowering, and a glance at his gunblade—How many years had it taken for him to graduate as an expert? His whole life in Balamb had been spent avoiding people that he'd had no recollection of playing with at the orphanage, of avoiding relationships that might hurt him because, even if none of them had been able to remember their childhood thanks to the GF's, deep inside, he could still remember the feeling of being abandoned. If he forged no new relationships, he wouldn't have anyone to be abandoned by. That was his train of thought. And still was, to a certain extent. So why he'd been going against his general fear by getting closer to Cloud, he didn't know.

He traced the edge of his gunblade with gloved fingertips, and then lifted the hand to trace the scar on his face and remembered that day in the training grounds with Seifer. No one had really understood how deep their rivalry was—it was a subconscious competition for attention, for fulfillment—to feel worthy of their phantom parents and the livesthey'd left them on their own to cling to. He was probably the only living being Squall ever acknowledged—before the whole mess with Ultimacia. And then Irvine, Selphie, Quistis and Rinoa had appeared, and he'd somehow magically found that he had friends after all. And the knowledge, he remembered it had made him feel so odd and confused, and taken him months to sort through—and Irvine had been there the whole time, smoothing the path to acceptance and socializing. He knew he was still a pain to get along with, and part of it was a deliberate act, but he could feel the effects of Irvine's molding words and actions in Aerith and Yuffie and Cid's easy acceptance of him.

And then… the Heartless had appeared, and taken them all, and though he logically knew it wasn't abandonment… it was quite a different matter trying to tell that to his heart.

OoO

He remembered it was Sephiroth who was able to get him into such an emotional frenzy, and he'd never expected someone else to be able to drive him into such a cold fury meant to hide the hurt, the pain, the feeling of being lost and not belonging— _not being_. Even now, though he'd come to accept that he was indeed _something_, he still couldn't bring himself to call himself truly human. And the devil's wing pinned on his back only affirmed that he was waste, inhuman, some sort of monster created in a lab and injected with more toxins than he would ever know. The failed clone of a madman, never someone _of his own_.

All he wanted was to feel. Then he'd know he was human, and had emotions, and that maybe he could be lucky enough to find someone, even if he wasn't quite worth it. Zax had loved him, treated him like a human, and Cloud would never be able to forget that. Zax was the only proof Cloud had that there was something human and real inside him and capable of feeling.

It came with a price though. Even if now he knew who he was and what his real life had been like, he had the shadows of Zax's memories still imprinted in his mind, like ghosts that would not cease clouding his eyesight. When he drank something, he had to wonder whether it was really _him_ that liked the drink, or whether it was a subconscious remnant of the taste he'd acquired from the time he'd believed he was Zax and adopted all his traits and memories. Though Aerith had told him otherwise, and he knew she accepted him for who he was now, he wondered if she could still see traces of the first man she'd loved in him. He wondered if there was any part of himself that truly belonged to him, and him alone.

Maybe that was what he was trying to accomplish in getting closer to Leon. Leon didn't know Zax, and would not be able to compare Cloud to him, and so, finally, Cloud could find something that was his alone, that was not tied to Zax, or Sephiroth, or his lonely past. Someone who would accept him as he was, and love him back, and make him _feel_. Was it so much to ask to want to be human?

It was… but he still could not stop this need to feel, and belong, a need embedded in him from years of being shunned and growing up alone and rejected, and then having the dream of his life—the only thing that would make him feel fulfilled— shattered. He hadn't been mentally strong enough to qualify as a SOLDIER, but to him, the failure had been so much more than just a simple refusal—it had been a rejection of his dreams, of his only feeling of self-worth, of the life he'd wanted to have just to prove himself to others and gain their acceptance…

Zax had accepted him, even after he'd failed, and Cloud could not deny he craved the comfort he'd gotten from him, needed the acceptance of somebody who loved him as he was, despite all his flaws and shortcomings, who saw that he was more than just _Sephiroth's_ clone, or some winged demon. He needed to be reassured he was human, and that he was _himself_ and not just some shadow's puppet. Deep inside, it was all he could bring himself to think about, and he longed for it like a child raised amidst a war longs for a childhood—an indescribably something that he knows he once had but was brutally snatched before he could truly appreciate it.

Cloud had thought he could find someone _just for him_ in Leon.

But Leon had let him down.

After shaking away the initial shock and hurt, he'd felt himself bubbling with an indescribable rage, felt it crashing and merging with his muddled frustration and growing with each angry step he took.

How _dare_ the bastard ignore him!

It didn't take long to find him, trailing his gunblade on the floor and walking absently, and if the picture struck some sort of sympathy in Cloud's heart, it was quickly overpowered by his anger of betrayal. He unclipped Buster from his back and went straight on at Leon, and it was only the brunet's quick reflexes and Cloud's disregard for the noise he was making that allowed Leon to lift Revolver in time to parry Cloud's attack.

"What the—" his surprised exclamation was cut short as his back smashed into a brick wall.

"What the hell was that back there, you jerk?" Cloud barked, and he didn't miss the way Leon's eyes shied away from his, but he only felt a cold twist of his stomach at it, and in response, his anger went up another notch. He shook the brunet harshly, Griever rattling away like a little bell.

But Leon wasn't exactly the passive type either, even if he appeared it, and with his advantage in brute strength, pushed Cloud away and dove at him with his gunblade.

"Shut up!" he snarled, because he had no idea what to say, or how to explain, and shoving him against a wall wasn't exactly the best way to get him to apologize either.

Cloud whirled about, easily dodging him, and planted his fist in Leon's stomach with a punch that left him breathless and reeling back slightly.

"Is that all you can say after that, huh? You ignore me, and then tell _me_ to shut up?" those aquamarine eyes were burning eerily with barely contained rage, and his whole body shook with fury, or so Leon assumed.

The brunet took a breath to steady himself, fully aware that Cloud was waiting for his response, and if it wasn't good enough, then there was more awaiting for him at the end of that fist. The seconds dragged on, as Leon tried to find the words to express the barrage of emotions that had slowly smoldered in him since that morning.

"I—I wasn't ignoring _you_," he finally growled, standing up straight and scowling.

"No? Then what…" Cloud seemed to be having trouble speaking, and swallowed a moment before continuing, "Then what were you ignoring?" he wanted to scream out: _My inhumanity? My unworthiness? My…_

Leon opened his mouth, but he knew nothing would come out of it… "I… I wasn't ignoring _you_, but my…my…" _my feelings_. The seconds ticked, and his tongue felt like some foreign object that he did not know how to move, and he could only watch as Cloud's face grew progressively paler, and he looked like he was on the verge of being ill.

And Leon barely had a moment to dodge before a fist came at him, and he dropped Revolver to catch the other fist swung at him. Their faces were inches apart, and Cloud's panting breath and furious eyes of molten sapphire drove in guilt with a nail of fury into him and entranced him.

Cloud almost didn't want to continue, because Leon's silver eyes were confused and stormy with more than just anger—and Cloud _wished_ he could believe what he'd said— _I wasn't ignoring you_— but if not him, then what?

"I thought you, of all people, knew what it was like to be rejected!" the words made Leon's mind freeze, and his body moved on autopilot to duck as Cloud's body tore away and aimed a kick high at his head, and Leon took the advantage of his upset balance to tackle him, sending both of them to the floor with a jarring jolt. Leon's hair swished across Cloud's forehead, the smaller body hot underneath his, ignoring the pain of the hands gripping his forearms painfully, listening to their heaving breaths and the angry growls that escaped Cloud's throat and sounded almost like repressed sobs.

"I do… and I wasn't trying to—" he tried, attempting to will the anger from his growl.

"Shut up!" Cloud snapped, "You did, and I want to know the hell why!"

His attempt failed, and Leon's gaze grew angry, silver mercury flashing dangerously. He tightened his hold on Cloud's collar and lifted him slightly only to ram him back onto the floor, ignoring the way Cloud's pupils widened and contracted out of focus when his head cracked against the ground.

"You know nothing! Don't even try to pretend to understand what _I'm_ feeling, bastard!" his hands were shaking, even fisted around the blonde's collar, because he didn't _know_ how to express what was roiling around in his head—scattered thoughts about being distant, and the iciness he was familiar and comfortable with, and Irvine, and that he was useless and unwanted, and to keep Cloud from finding all this out, and risking attachment and abandonment. He felt sick just realizing the vast canyon of logic plateaus and emotion crevices he was diving into.

Cloud's eyes narrowed and he arched his back to get momentum before pushing against Leon and managing to throw him off, and in Leon's troubled state, it was successful. They were both on bended knees, their weapons lying at a useless distance away, but their glares making up for it, their breaths like a mob of people all pushing to get past at once. Cloud snapped first, once again, because he'd been riled to a point past rationalization, which was Leon's strength —_Squall's_— anyway.

"I didn't start this! You decided to suddenly go off on your own, and throw me in for the worst damn morning in history, and when I finally find you, _this_ is what I get? I get a self-centered bastard who doesn't think of what his actions might do to others, and ignores someone for the heck of it? Well, fuck this, 'cause you're—"

He gasped and reeled back as Leon's punch sent a resounding crack to ring in his head, and for a moment, his vision faded out before coming to, and he found himself sprawled on the ground, looking up at violent silver eyes that glared at him over a heaving chest and a raised palm. Cloud stared at him with unfocused half-lidded eyes, feeling his jaw throb unbearably, and his teeth felt out of place when he closed his mouth, as if his whole jaw had been dislodged. His vision had odd shapes blobbing across it, and he momentarily wanted to reach out and touch one of them. He stared at Leon's rapidly shaming face instead.

The brunet closed his eyes for a moment, ran his hand through his hair, and to Cloud's surprise, held out his hand, his expression slightly grimacing and clearly guilty. But Cloud only glared at the offending object and lifted his eyes to its owner before slapping it away, hissing, "It's not worth it. Get out of my sight."

But Leon took this to mean _You're not worth it_, and Cloud could not have picked better words to nail his error and make him feel so useless he suddenly couldn't face the blonde who remained on the floor, a hand placed over his jaw and the other one fisted at his side. Those burning sapphires were practically emitting waves of hatred his way, and Leon stepped back once, wondering if he could ever fix this, and trying to shove away the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat as he realized that Cloud was serious when he'd said to get out of his sight.

He realized this was a different sort of rejection, and wondered which one was more painful.

His boots ground into the dirt as he swiveled around, and only the sternest of self-control and the nausea in his stomach kept him from breaking out into a full run. _I've never been worth anything… much less him_.

* * *

**Alright, alright, so it ends similar to the last chapter, so sue me, I decided Leon needed payback. I'm throwing them in for a little hell before they finally (if at all, in fact, they probably won't at all!) make up (notice up, not out). Gotta say I don't have artistic profanity down yet. Some people do, and it's actually pretty and adds a lot of flavor. I have yet to know how to do that. Anyway, hope it was liked, review! **

**Couple quick notes: Hopemia, I'd love to go the community, but links don't work on here (so you gotta separate them with spaces) so all I saw was 'visit here: (insert blank)'**

**And... everyone HAS to read wolfofsummerbreeze's review for chapter 5... it'll make you feel SO much better after all this conflict :hugs:sendspossible gag chapter:(sorry for the mix up, btw)**

**BTW, your reviews all made me laugh sooo hard! I loved them to pieces, you guys responded so ... emotionally to the last chapter! I'll figure something out about the crossdressing and stargazing and emo/suicidal stuff.XD**


	7. Denial

**So I should be shot::wince:: Sorry for the long wait. I have no valid excuses cept for school and writer's block. Hope you guys enjoy nonetheless. Thanks for reading this and keeping up with me!  
**

**Warnings: Cid's potty mouth. **

* * *

**_Broken Rituals: Chapter 7- Denial _**

* * *

One down, ten more to go, and he went at them with the Revolver like they were the most disgusting things he'd ever seen, not fit to exist, destructive, abominable, emotionless things.

Leon pretended that instead of fighting the Heartless, he was fighting himself.

He went at them with a savage fury, as if hoping that the avalanche of emotions in him would be carried away with the bullet he shot, as if maybe if he exhausted himself enough, he'd go to sleep and wake up and find it hurt less. He'd never been much of a dreamer, and all it amounted to was him trying to find a way to run away but at the same time, fleeing the fact that it was useless, and he knew it.

He didn't want to go anywhere, afraid he'd run into Cloud wherever he went. And now, with Cloud wanting him out of his sight, and having driven a knife into him that was still bleeding painfully— he didn't know how to ebb the flow, he felt lost and trapped in a maze that sprouted from inside him and had swallowed him up in guilt and rejection and unbearable pain.

They were all gone, the reflections of himself had dissipated into a burst of dark smoke, and he watched it wistfully, wishing things were like that. He wasn't sure if he was talking about his emotions, or his current problems, or his life… he just wanted to stop feeling. He timed his breaths to the second, but he needed so much more air than that and ended up feeling lightheaded. His hand was pressed tightly over his eyes, because the pressure behind them was painful, and he was afraid if he let it go he might start…

Impossible, he hadn't even when Irvine had died. He'd been too empty and shocked to.

And it was worse, in a way, that he couldn't even get mad at Cloud, because when he really thought about it, sitting on a bench in the central plaza in Second District, Leon was the one who'd started it all. He was the one who'd left early that morning, a fugitive from his dream, and apparently… worried Cloud? He felt unworthy of that worry now, but in truth, Cloud probably hadn't really been worried. Why should he have been? He was _Leon_, he wasn't worthy of worry, he wasn't fond of worry, he didn't _want_ worry thrown his way. And yet… when Irvine had fussed over his injuries, or that one time he'd been feverish, he hadn't gotten mad. He'd felt pleased and awkward and unsure of how to react but…

He shoved that train of thought away because it was contradicting, and he just wanted simplicity. He didn't want to think of the conflicting images of Cloud and Irvine in his head, and trying to compare the feelings he got with each, and…

He was suddenly aware that he was being watched, and he lifted his head from where it hung limply to blink at two pairs of large brown eyes. They belonged to two young children, obviously brother and sister, who were watching him unabashedly from a distance.

"Wow…" the boy said with raised eyebrows, holding a multicolored ball in his hands, "It's him," they were apparently too young to know what constituted as rude.

"That's Leon?" her huge brown eyes blinked innocently, and as if noticing that Leon was staring back at them, waved cheerfully. He managed to raise his hand in an awkward motion back.

"Yeah, you don't see that cool weapon he has? The old pilot guy said it's called a 'gunblade'."

The little girl wrinkled her nose, "The one who says bad words all the time? I think he needs to wash his mouth with soap," Leon almost laughed, and made a mental note to tell that to Cid next time he saw him. Without wasting a further second, she tugged her older brother's shirt plaintively, "I wanna play! Mommy said we could play if he was around, cause then the Heartless would be too scared to come!"

The boy shrugged coolly, and threw the ball to her, and Leon watched them for a while. He'd been momentarily irritated at their presence in the beginning, being in no mood to deal with children, but now found them strangely relaxing. They were small, awkward little things, dropping the ball and scampering after it, and he liked the simplicity of their words and actions. It didn't make him wish he was a kid again though, because what little he could still remember despite Shiva's long-term presence in his mind from his past life was anything but pleasant. He did not particularly relish his childhood, though he did remember his 'sister' Elle with a fondness he found calming amidst the other barrage of emotions that were beginning to ebb in intensity.

They knew he was watching them, for they threw glances in his direction when the other was busing getting the ball. They mostly just ignored him, possibly out of shyness, and continued their game with a childish call to each other. But at one point, the little girl, after throwing him a 'covert' glance, as far as that went with children, set the ball down and scurried off to the fountain, where various flowers grew under the care of pixies that had been transported to Traverse Town. She stood there, clearly pondering which flower was best, and upon picking one, and then another one just 'cause, ran back under both her brother and Leon's puzzled gazes, to present the two haphazardly-picked flowers to him.

He took them, cupping them carefully in his hands, mostly because there was no other option, and looked at her, and she smiled sweetly and said, "Mommy says you keep the town safe, and that you're even stronger than Daddy. I give Mommy and Daddy flowers, so I thought you would want one too!"

He felt the corner of his mouth twitch, and allowed it to grow into a fuller smile, and then reached out to ruffle her golden, pony-tailed head, earning him a small giggle. Her brother came by, scoffing slightly.

"No way, he can't be stronger than _Dad_, Dad's the strongest man in the _world_," he looked slightly apologetically at Leon and added, "But I bet you come reaaaally close."

Leon shook his head slightly, "Or not," he said softly, and sent them along to keep on playing. He watched them play for over an hour, before a woman with groceries on hand called them from across the plaza, and they cantered away, waving him a goodbye.

They had reminded him of something important, and he wanted to hold on to that as long as he could. Worthless or not, he had a goal now, a mission he could not afford to give up, and it was for this reason that his name was now ' Leon', and the old Squall was gone. His inability and inadequacy at being able to save those dearest to him was what he'd been trying to get rid of, all that his old name encompassed. Squall had failed, Squall was worthless, and he to keep telling himself that he was now ' Leon' and he had a duty to defend this town from the Heartless. He could not fail, and he… he wasn't sure what it meant to be Leon sometimes. He wanted to believe that it gave him a new chance—that had been the purpose, after all, but now he wondered if it also made him null, in a way, because it disregarded the fact that he _had_ been a person before. It was an opportunity of sorts, was what he'd led himself to believe in his periods of self-denial, because 'Leon' had not committed any wrongs, he'd not failed every one he loved and cared for. He'd not lost Irvine. He had thought that 'Leon' would not come to care for anyone, having learned from 'Squall's' mistakes, but now he wondered— _hoped_— if it gave him the chance to find someone without Squall's burdens. ' Leon' was not worthless, and thus, maybe ' Leon' was actually capable of having someone to love and care for.

Those were his thoughts in his deeper entrenches of denial, but in moments like this, with the weight of Irvine's hat resting like a board of nails on his back, he realized he was only fooling himself. He could not exactly throw away 'Squall' and start over anew. Squall and Leon were really one and the same, and he could only force the façade on to others. After all, Leon was also not someone who had earned anything, or learned anything through Squall's experiences, and thus really had no worth anyway. Squall was who he was, who he had been, and who he would forever remain being. He could not throw himself away.

And so the problem remained. Squall was worthless, had seen things far past what most humans would ever be tortured and cursed with seeing, and had been through hell and time itself. He'd not come out unscathed, and those scars were now the ones holding him back, binding him to the past and keeping him from reaching out to the future that _might_ be without fear. The chains were thin and wiry, so easy to dispel if he had the mind to, but the problem was that he was holding on to them for simple fear of letting go. It was fear and nothing else, fear of being let down, of letting down, of losing and being unworthy, of failing. Fear of being drowned in emotions that would choke him. The way those of losing Irvine had.

God, he wished he couldn't _feel_.

"Hey, Leonhart!"

The brunet was startled out of his thoughts by the hoarse yell coming from behind and above him, and looked up to see Cid looking over him from the elevated streets surrounding the plaza. The man's intense blue eyes were looking at him with that sailor brashness Cid was so known for.

"Yeah, get your ass up here, boy."

Leon didn't deign to respond, but obeyed Cid without a question more for the fact that he had nothing better to do. He trudged up the stairs and placed his stoniest, 'don't-talk-stupid-or-I'll-get-pissed' look on his face and stood in front of Cid, hips cocked with a hand strategically placed on them for maximum no-nonsense effect. The old man was chewing on an unlit cigar, and shoved the heavy box full of Gummy ship parts he was carrying onto Leon's arms.

"Carry that, I'm too damn old to be doing manual labor like this."

Leon snorted, and refrained from mentioning that Cid and old age hadn't yet caught up with each other, and Cid was most definitely capable of obliterating more than a fair share of Heartless, if his language and attitude weren't indicative enough.

"So, where have you been?" Cid tossed back a glance that told him he didn't really care about the physical location. Leon could answer Baghdad for all Cid cared. He was tempted to, certainly, but obliged because Cid was a simple, straightforward man. Leon valued that, and so felt compelled to be the same way in return.

"Had a bad night. Just thought I'd get to work earlier," he shrugged.

"The girls are worried sick about you. They sent Spikey to find you," he paused, "Did he?"

It was Leon's turn to hesitate, and he did so by pretending to shift the box in his arms to a more comfortable position, then muttered, "Yeah."

"Hm…" Cid seemed to want to add more, but apparently something on Leon's face warned him that he was treading on touchy ground, and he instead gave Leon a look-over, taking in the red marks on the brunet's face, the dirt on his pants and jacket, and the less-than-energetic swagger to his steps, "You look like you were roughed up. Heartless give you trouble?"

Leon actually grimaced, and offered nothing more than an ill-humored grunt as Cid opened the door to his shop and led them inside.

"Actually…" Leon set the box down, rattling whatever goods were inside, and shifted awkwardly on one foot before relenting, "It was Cloud."

Cid raised his eyebrow and gave a low whistle, "So you're telling me you bastards fought? How the hell did that come about?" Cid began taking parts out of the box, and tossed some to the younger man, "Take those and follow me."

Leon scowled, following Cid down to the gummi garage, "I don't know. Apparently he was pissed that he'd been sent to look for me."

"I can image. Spikey's not a morning person. But he's also not the type to go around picking fights like some poor starved bastard."

Leon dwelt on that and wondered how to phrase the situation. On the one hand, yes, there had been a whole lot more to the situation, but on the other… it had happened so quickly that Leon wasn't even sure _what_ or _how_ it'd developed into a full-out brawl. It had been one vicious cycle of misplaced verbal assaults feeding off each other and escalating into the physical. It was, after all, what they were most comfortable with. He sighed as he stepped over scattered boxes full of strangely colored mechanical parts that he was sure came from a carnival sale, his mind whirring like a mechanical toy engine to find where it all had started. It wasn't all from this morning, was it? Leon shook his head and affirmed to himself, _Yes, it was all just a misunderstanding that happened this morning_.

"Well… right after he found me he made some smart-ass comment about my hat."

The old man began choking abruptly, and it took Leon a moment to realize that he was in fact, holding back his laughter. Leon bristled and slammed down his parts on the table, crossing his arms angrily.

"Careful with those!"

"Damn it, Cid," he snapped, "I'm not kidding around here."

Cid knew about Irvine, and most, if not nearly all, of his back story at Balamb. He knew about the orphanage, about the GF's, Rinoa and Seifer and Ultimecia… and Irvine. It was probably the only reason Leon was even attempting to explain some of his situation to him. He felt affronted and slightly indignant that Cid would _laugh_ over something he knew was so difficult for him.

"Alright, alright. Sorry, kid. But what, you started a fuckin' fight over a comment about the hat? I mean, I know it's special to ya an' all, but…" Cid chewed on his cigar as he spoke, inspecting the giant engine sitting in the middle of the garage, and threw a glance at Leon, "What else?"

"Well…" Leon paused, because here he was treading territory that he was having a hard time coming to terms with himself, and he wasn't sure how to put it into words. He stuck with the easy parts to retell, "Actually, he got pissed after I ignored him and walked away."

"What are ya, five?" the old man recoiled slightly from Leon's scathing glare and held up his hands defensively, "Sorry, right, you're being serious. And? Why did you?"

Leon hesitated, "Because…" he sat down at one of the chairs surrounding the table, frowning deeply as he fingered one of the gummi parts. Cid waited patiently, scratching his head as he searched for a screw of the right size.

"I feel like I'm betraying Irvine," he admitted reluctantly, and the guilt ate him from the inside merely at the words and made his fingers clench convulsively. _How could I ever…_

"Betraying him? How the hell do you betray a dead man? —Toss me that booster part there."

Leon mentally winced at Cid's words and damned the pilot. His straightforwardness sometimes resulted in thoughtlessness and bluntness that Leon hardly appreciated. He tossed him the gummi block.

"Because I haven't thought about him in a while," it wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth. He felt like too many of his thoughts lately had been focused on Cloud, and not enough on Irvine, and was afraid of reaching out to grasp the meaning of that with his conscious mind.

"What's that gotta do with blondie?"

Leon scowled, hating how Cid was able to pinpoint his thoughts like a radar and instead avoided the question, "Anyway, so I ignored him and then left. He followed me and slammed me against a wall and demanded to know why. How the hell was I supposed to explain to him about Irvine?"

"You could always just sit down and talk," Cid suggested, grunting as he pushed the screw deeper into the booster part.

"It's not that simple."

The old pilot paused and rummaged around in his toolbox, withdrawing a wrench, and continued in his conversational drawl. Leon wasn't sure whether he appreciated the casual air or not. He supposed that if it was any other way, though, he wouldn't be divulging as much information as he was right now, "You're probably making it more complicated than it really is— Get that hinge-looking thing from that shelf, will ya? Anyway, I have a feeling he might understand 'bout your cowboy, he had someone like that back at our world."

"Zack, right?" Leon muttered bitterly.

"Yeah, exactly," Cid was oblivious to Leon's tone and took the offered part without a glance back, "So, what, then you tried to kick his ass, and then he did the same, and that's what happened?"

"In a shortened version, yeah."

"You fellas never had a scrap?"

"Not really..."

Cid wrinkled his nose, "Damn engine's completely obsolete… I'm gonna have to update the whole damn system," he turned to Leon with a knowing look and chewed on his cigar more thoroughly. There'd be nothing left of it by the end of the day, Leon thought sullenly, "I got a feeling there's a good bit more to this. You pretty boys are too cold-blooded to let something as damn ridiculous as smart-ass quips get you into a fucking fist-fight. Especially one that's gotten you in a tizzy like this."

"I am not in a 'tizzy'. It's just a fight," Leon snapped, but the hand he ran through his hair belied him. He knew he was lying; he'd definitely been affected by this whole ordeal more than he'd like to admit to anyone. _Why_ was the real question. And how to stop it was his next.

"Hm, not if it made you actually talk to me about it," and damn the pilot, why was he smarter than he led others to believe by mere speech and looks? "What was the result?"

"He hates me," Leon muttered, sinking down in his seat. Cid raised his brow and made his way over to Leon, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. He threw his arm over the back and scratching his chin, his eyes raking over Leon with an almost fatherly, regretful gaze.

"Sometimes I forget you kids are only kids, and have been made to shoulder stuff no fuckin' kid should ever have to deal with," he said softly.

"I'm 23," Leon said stiffly.

"And how old were ya when you were abandoned? How old were ya when that mess with Ultimecia happened?" Cid grunted, and Leon bitterly acknowledged he had a point, because it was something he'd resented all his life.

"Look kid, do you have someone you hate?"

"Of course," Leon's eyes flashed as he thought of Seifer and Ultimecia and the people he'd had to fight back at Balamb…

"And did it take just one misunderstanding or fight to get you to hate 'em?"

Leon blinked as Cid's logic clicked immediately, "No…" but he was still unsure, the vivid revulsion in Cloud's eyes was ingrained in his mind and made something odd get caught in his throat.

"Then what the hell's the problem?"

Leon looked away and massaged his forehead, willing away the throb behind his eyes, "…I don't know," he murmured, and wished his voice hadn't sounded so particularly weak. He paused and reviewed all the _hurt_ that had gone into that fight. Remembered Cloud's rejection, and the words _You're not worth it_ rang painfully in his head like an toll bell, swinging inside his skull, and he had to close his eyes, "We… were rather scathing with our words, I suppose."

"People don't mean what they say in a fight," Cid waved it off unimportantly.

"I think I did something stupid. I think I hurt him," Lean suddenly said, remembering Cloud's words about rejection, and how those had hit home in some part of Leon too, "He thinks I rejected him."

Cid looked up sharply and accusingly, "Did you say that?"

"Not exactly…" Leon said, shrinking away from Cid's reproaching look and hiding his puzzlement.

Cid snorted and took out a lighter from his pocket, flipping it open and lighting his mangled cigar, "You better not have. There's not a word that kills that poor kid more than that."

Leon gazed at Cid with something akin to anxious wonder, which in his stomach was rapidly turning into a metallic, roiling snake, "Why?"

Cid shrugged, "I don't know if it's exactly my place to tell you… but his childhood wasn't exactly friendly, and being rejected as a kid by nearly everyone around him didn't bode well for him. Then there was SOLDIER, and that really screwed with the kid's head. It was his dream, his only goal, really, to be accepted. But they found him too mentally unstable—lack of confidence, and all that, is what I'm guessin'. And then of course after—" Cid broke off there and fell abruptly silent.

"What?" Leon demanded. This was the most he'd heard about Cloud's past, and he found himself gluttonous for more, drinking it in greedily, even as the metal snake in his stomach became ice and tried to crawl up the walls of his throat and nudge its head out his throat…

"I don't think I should tell you any more. You'll need to hear the rest from his own mouth," Cid leaned forward, "Cloud went through hell and back, and it's a miracle he evens knows his name anymore."

Leon's brow furrowed, and he found himself holding his breath as if he was being admitted into some sort of pact of secrecy. Would Cloud ever tell him this on his own? Conversely, would Leon ever tell Cloud any of _his_ past?

"What do you mean by that?" he was careful not to pry too much, but he just wanted to know, and wondered _why_. He wasn't a curious person by nature, he was content to let things happen around him without his knowledge, people and their actions didn't interest him as a general rule. So why? Why was he so thirsting to find out these things about Cloud? _Cloud_. Every time he consciously thought the name it was like something was poking the intangible thing his being was—he couldn't figure if it was his mind, or his heart, or some abstract shadow of his body…

Cid shook his head, "There was a time when the only thing he knew about himself was his name, and everything else he thought was him was in fact, Zack. There was also a time when he knew _nothing_ about himself, scared the hell out of us that time… With all the shit he went through it's a surprise he's even remotely functional."

Leon was struck and baffled by this information, and was about to push his luck to decipher what this meant when Cid spoke up again.

"So, there's still a good bit I don't understand here. What does Irvine have to do with Cloud?"

Leon fell silent. And glared at Cid, because there was little else he could do at the moment.

"Don't look at me like that. If anything, that just proves it," Cid snorted, and blew out a plume of smoke that rose airily upward, and Leon had the fleeting wish to dissolve his problems like that. Maybe smoking would help, he thought rebelliously. Irvine said it did.

"Confirms what?" he finally muttered.

"There's a reason your name right now is _Leon_, Squall," Cid gave him a gaze too sharp and knowing for Leon's comfort, and the sound of his true name was almost accusatory and reminded him of getting caught lying as a kid. He masked the fact that he'd been forced to look away by standing up, the screech of the chair jarring his head and the throbbing pain that had begun growing there.

Denial. Squall—no, Leon—had always been particularly good at that.

Until Cloud came along.

* * *

**I reapologize for the looong wait! Hope you guys forgive me. The next chapter should me up MUCH sooner than that. In the next chapter, we finally see Cloud... and what happened to him after their scuffle. **


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